


Chosen Ones

by dsa_archivist, EA Karras (Anne)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Series: Mountie Slayer Arc 3, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-10-31
Updated: 2000-10-31
Packaged: 2018-11-10 19:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11133195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne/pseuds/EA%20Karras
Summary: A very fun conundrum. The entrance of Dark Slayer into the Mountie Slayer universe. Better go read them....This story is a sequel toAnimated Corpse.





	Chosen Ones

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).
    
    
    Title: "Chosen Ones"
    Author: EA Karras and Magnes
    notes: Tara and Willow belong to Mutant EnemyDS belongs to Alliance.
    Von, James, Tom and all the other OCs belong to us. Bla. email:,
    twisted_knickers@hotmail.com
    
    ---
    
    Dr. Mina Turnbull had given up trying to keep them in separate beds.
    When the nurses gave up too, they knew they had won. 
    
    Now Tom lay curled possessively around James, one arm stretched across
    the vampire's waist and his other hand stroking the raven hair. It had
    not been a pleasant night. James had passed over to undeath again and
    that was a messy process even at the best of times. Compounded by the
    pneumonia, he had vomited more than his share of blood and fluid. 
    
    But now he slept, pressing close to Tom for warmth as he always did,
    and the Higher was happy beyond words just watching him sleep, anxious
    to talk to his lover, reluctant to wake him. He owed James an apology.
    A very big apology. His selfishness had almost cost the Sabbat - or was
    he a Gangrel again? - his life.  Tom hated himself for that, for his
    conduct last week. It was unlike him and he couldn't help but wonder
    at what Xander had said to him so mockingly... 
    
    He leaned over and pressed his lips to the back of James' neck. So cool.
    So smooth. So goddamned sexy. All his. 
    
    James shifted at the touch, whispering something in his sleep. Tom smiled,
    his lips still pressed against his lover's neck. "I love you," he whispered.
    
    ***
    
    Exhaustion did not begin to describe Ray Kowalski's state. He had passed
    exhausted about twelve light years ago and finally had to be supported
    up the stairs in Vecchio's house to one of the guest rooms. Between the
    strain of caring for Calhoun, the loss of Fraser, and the flash, he was
    laid lower than low. 
    
    "Okay, Stan, shoes off," ordered Ray Vecchio, sitting the younger man
    down on the bed in one of the spare bedrooms. "Come on. Let me help you,
    here." 
    
    Vecchio ended up stripping him of his shoes and holster and belt, leaving
    him in his jeans and t-shirt. Stan tried to help but only got in the
    way. 
    
    "Lie down," ordered the Italian. Kowalski fell over into the pillow.
    
    "Saw Frase," he mumbled. "Running. Saw 'em..."
    
    "Tell me when you wake up the day after tomorrow, Stanley. Good night."
    
    ***
    
    Slowly, Tom opened his eyes, staring up at the figures standing above
    him and James. Von. 
    
    No. Scratch that. Vons. There were two of the Sabbat Second in the room.
    One stood right by the bed and managed to look menacing, while the other
    one, pausing in the doorway, just looked...dumbfounded. 
    
    Tom lay there staring as the closer one smiled, raising the metal stake
    in his hands. Before Tom could shout out a warning, he whirled, stabbing
    the surprised Von in the chest and then aiming for James. 
    
    It was almost on instinct that Tom reacted, leaping up, and knocking
    the vampire to the floor. They struggled over the stake, viciously hissing
    and scratching at each other. 
    
    "Moloch! Whore!" the newer Von hissed up at Tom as the Primal got the
    best of him. 
    
    Tom didn't even hesitate to stake. It took several blows to the chest
    to get the stake all the way through, and when he was done he looked
    up to find two pairs of eyes on him. Von blinked, as stunned at his wound
    as at Tom. Then he fell back onto the floor where he'd landed, bleeding
    dark blood. Calhoun coughed, struggling awake as he fumbled for the nurse
    call button. 
    
    Tom stared. Where had the second Von come from?
    
    ***
    
    Vecchio grabbed the phone on the eighth ring, yawning before speaking.
    "Yeah?" 
    
    "Ray? Ray, is that you?" Fraser. He sounded far away. Close enough for
    Vecchio's ears. 
    
    "Benny!"
    
    Stella stirred with a groan and Ray stood up, hurrying into the hall.
    
    "Benny, where are you? Are you alright? Do you need help?"
    
    He could hear the relief in his friend's voice and knew that he was smiling
    as he said, "I'm fine, Ray. I'm in the Canadian Consulate in London."
    
    "London! What the heck are you doing there?"
    
    "Calling you. What word on Tom?"
    
    Forgetting that the Mountie didn't have as many details available, Vecchio
    rattled off a run-down of the events. "Well, Tom and Jay got away from
    the Initiative alright and McGuire sent troops to close them down for
    good. Jamey didn't die of old age, they got back in time for Jay to bring
    him back to the undead fold." 
    
    "Ray-"
    
    He was hedging on purpose, knowing full well what his friend really wanted
    to know about. "How are you? That blood poison you good or what?" 
    
    "I'm well. It seems to be out of my system with no adverse effects. Ray-"
    
    "What about the Watchers?" He was outside Stan's bedroom door.
    
    "I don't know. I need to speak to Captain Welsh and Sgt. Frobisher. Ray-"
    
    "They let you go?"
    
    "No, I escaped. Ray-"
    
    Smiling, Vecchio looked down at the form twisted through the bedding.
    "He's right here, Benny. He's been with Jamey the whole time." He leaned
    over and shook his one-time replacement. "Hey, Stan?  Wake up. Benny's
    calling. He's on the phone. Come on, Stan, wake up." 
    
    ***
    
    Fraser smiled as he heard a moan, a groan, and a muttered sound as his
    lover was roused from what must have been a very deep sleep. He could
    hear Ray Vecchio trying to drag the younger man to wakefulness with indifferent
    success. 
    
    "Ray? Ray, are you there?" he called.
    
    "Fra-?"
    
    "Ray? Ray? Ray?"
    
    "Frase," whispered a very sleepy, very grateful voice.
    
    "Ray," breathed Fraser, knowing exactly what the serge-colored hair was
    doing and the expression on his lover's face. "I miss you." 
    
    "Y'okay?"
    
    "Yes. I'm in the Canadian Consulate in London. They're being extremely
    helpful." 
    
    "Coming home?" asked the voice. Ray was trying to wake up and failing
    miserably. 
    
    "The day after tomorrow. I'll be flying into Kennedy Airport in New York
    first, then on to O'Hare." He heard a mighty yawn and Ray Vecchio saying
    something he couldn't quite make out. "Go back to sleep, Ray. I'll call."
    
    "Love you."
    
    Fraser smiled, amazed at how that sleep-slurred voice, those words, never
    failed to thrill him. He turned away from the handful of people in the
    room. "I love you, too." 
    
    "Miss you."
    
    "And I you, my love. I'll be home soon."
    
    Ray was fading. He was truly exhausted, then. "Hurry."
    
    "I shall."
    
    "Good. G'night."
    
    "Good night, Ray. Pleasant dreams."
    
    "...of you..."
    
    Smiling still, he hung up the phone. Pleasant dreams indeed.
    
    ***
    
    "What the hell was that? Who was that?" Calhoun demanded as Mina checked
    out the scratches on Tom's arms. Von sat on the other bed, staring at
    his blood-soaked shirt and drinking a mug of blood Jay had thrust in
    his hands. 
    
    "He was me..." Von said quietly. "You staked him," he said to Tom, shocked.
    
    "He was going to kill James."
    
    Von nodded. He was impressed. He had underestimated the Consort. He hadn't
    thought Tom would have the guts. Positively pleased that the Moloch had
    developed some backbone, he just made a face as he drank the blood. Maybe
    Tom was worthy competition after all. 
    
    Calhoun shook his head. "But where did he come from?"
    
    Tom shrugged. "I don't know...But I hope he's the last..."
    
    ***
    
    Vecchio nearly dropped the phone. "What? He what?" He rubbed his eyebrow,
    barely noticing the Fraserism he'd stolen. "Shit. I...what do you need
    me to do?" 
    
    He looked up as Kowalski came slowly down the stairs.  If ever a man
    needed coffee...
    
    "Okay. Yeah, I'll call them. I'll let 'em know. Thanks, Dire."
    
    He poured the red-haired detective a cup of coffee and put it into his
    hands. "Here. Let me know when you can think. What are you doing up so
    soon?" 
    
    "Gaa," grumbled Kowalski reflexively, adding some sugar to the coffee
    before plopping into a chair to get his morning caffeine fix. About ten
    minutes passed before he focused on Vecchio. "G'mornin'."
    
    Ray poured more coffee. "That was Dire that called. They had some problems
    at the hospital. A Von clone or something tried to kill Cal." 
    
    "Wha-? Who?"
    
    "Von. Jamey's second. Tom staked him. The double, that is."
    
    Ray just blinked, not at all sure what to say or do. "And...that's a
    bad thing?" he asked, looking to Vecchio for confirmation. "Dey all okay?
    What time izzit?" 
    
    "It's three thirty Monday afternoon, they'll be ok."
    
    "It'll be a cold day in hell when they're ok..."
    
    Vecchio chuckled. "You remember last night? Benny calling?"
    
    A completely stupid grin lit Kowalski's face. "Yeah," he said softly,
    pleased at the memory of Fraser's voice. 
    
    "I have to call Cassie and Nikko and let them know." He looked up at
    as his three-year old son came into the kitchen, clearly looking for
    a hug and a snack. Vecchio smiled. "Ray-J! Where's grandma?"
    
    "Shh!" ordered the boy. "She's sleepin'."
    
    "Hey, kiddo," smiled Kowalski. "Hungry?"
    
    He nodded, wide-eyed and serious.
    
    "'Kay if we raid the fridge?" asked Ray, looking at his fellow detective.
    
    Vecchio snorted at the notion of Kowalski raiding anything. His idea
    of a big meal was Vecchio's idea of an appetizer. No wonder Ma despaired
    over her youngest 'son.' "Only if I'm invited." 
    
    Kowalski turned to the child. "C'mon, Junior. We Rays hafta stick together."
    He looked at Vecchio. "Okay, I'm awake now. What happened?" 
    
    ***
    
    Tara and Willow were walking towards the room when Calhoun wheeled out.
    He stopped as they approached him calmly. He could still feel them, at
    least partially, in his head. A pleasant weight to ease his troubles.
    
    "James." The red haired one, Willow was it?, smiled brightly at him.
    "We came as soon as we heard."
    
    "Do you know what happened?" he asked them, not caring how angry he sounded.
    Or felt.
    
    The shook their heads. "No."
    
    Tara smiled sweetly and brushed her fingers against Calhoun's cheek.
    "But we can find out."
    
    He frowned, not used to being touched by anyone outside his immediate
    circle.  Most people were hesitant to touch a vampire, much less a Sabbat,
    and the contact startled him a bit. 
    
    "What do you need to know?" he asked.
    
    As if she realized she was taking liberties, Tara settled down to business.
    "Everything."
    
    "Even about your consort?" complained Von. His voice said it all. 
    
    Calhoun glared up at him. "Scram."
    
    "Thank you, Elder. It's daylight now. I'm going to find a closet to hide
    in." 
    
    "Get lost, Von," he grumbled. "And if you see Jay, send him to me." Calhoun
    looked at the witches attending him. "Where would you like me to start?"
    
    "In the lounge," said Willow. "Grab your cup, I'll push you."
    
    ***
    
    A second call from Fraser assured Ray that he believed they would be
    safe returning to the apartment. As he gave his lover the information
    on his return, Ray became lost in the sound of Fraser's voice and the
    Mountie had to repeat the flight and time three times. 
    
    "Miss ya," said Ray. "Lost without ya."
    
    "Ray, you're in the Vecchio's home."
    
    "Yer home, Frase."
    
    He knew the Mountie was smiling. "I'll see you tomorrow. I love you."
    
    "Yeah, and I you, Benton Buddy."
    
    He hung up, smiling at Vecchio. "I'll go get the kids outta the hotel.
    Where's Dire and Turnbull?" 
    
    "Think Turnbull said something about the consulate."
    
    "Okay. I'll get the kids back in the house and get 'em some food and
    stuff, then I want to go check on Cal and Tom." 
    
    "After Ma wakes up I'll go see Turnbull. See what he's got."
    
    ***
    
    Three hours later, as the sun stretched towards the horizon, Ray found
    Calhoun back in his bed and on the verge of sleep. He stirred when he
    saw his prince approaching and tried to sit up. 
    
    Ray pushed him back down. "Stay put, Dead Man. How ya feelin'?"
    
    "Tired. Mina said I should be able to leave tomorrow." He yawned, and
    Ray delighted to see those fangs back where they belonged.
    
    "The kids are home. Cassie's staying with them tonight. Fraser's home
    tomorrow night," he added, smiling. Calhoun smirked. Kowalski was so
    transparent. "Cecil called. The ob...obste...doctor said he'll be full
    term in another two weeks, but the baby could come at any time. Same
    with Frannie." 
    
    Calhoun gazed at him fondly, saddened that Ray, who would have made the
    best of fathers, had no real children of his own. Ray was talking on
    and on, telling him about Dire and the Vecchio's, when he quietly interrupted.
    
    "Ray?"
    
    He stopped. Calhoun rarely used his name. It was usually a prelude to
    something big. 
    
    "Thank you."
    
    A smile lit his face and he dropped his gaze. "I'm glad I was here, Cal."
    He rose, a little embarrassed. "I'm gonna go check up on Psi-Boy. I'll
    be back." 
    
    "He's in a rut, or something. Stalking around the hospital, looking for
    bad guys." 
    
    Ray grinned. "I'll give him a hand. He really staked Von?"
    
    "Not my Von. But yeah."
    
    ***
    
    He found Tom by the elevators and together they entered, intending on
    going to the cafeteria to get something to eat and relax a bit. The hospital
    was unusually quiet and the elevator strangely empty. They talked quietly
    about nothing much, barely glancing up as the elevator door opened. 
    
    They looked up at as deep, familiar laugh echoed through the small chamber.
    Ray paled. Wyrm. 
    
    A Rexlor demon stepped into the elevator, blocking the exit. As the doors
    closed it grinned, then lashed out, smashing the controls and trapping
    them all. 
    
    Tom let out a shout of inhuman fury, fangs bared. He shoved Ray behind
    him, feeling the strange energy that made him Primal Higher coursing
    through his system as one of his own was threatened.
    
    Claustrophobia slammed down on Ray Kowalski as their only avenue of escape
    was blocked. Rexlors. Things gave him the creeps. All blades and goo
    and battleship gray hides. He saw blood on Tom's arms and gasped. He'd
    been cut. Oh God. Rexlor cuts were deadly. The blades were partially
    coated in venom, if you weren't careful... 
    
    His thoughts were interrupted when the demon lashed out at him. He looked
    down, and gasped again. He was bleeding. 
    
    And then everything went black.
    
    ***
    
    Fraser sat up in his seat, his gut suddenly awash in agonies. He gasped
    and touched his chest. "Ray..." 
    
    ***
    
    James Calhoun was saying good night to his and Tom's children when he
    felt it. Burning all over his arms. Fury and hatred in his heart. Terror.
    
    He hung up the phone and climbed out of bed. He gave a sharp mental command
    for Von to join him, then laboriously started to make his way to the
    door. 
    
    ***
    
    Turnbull and Dire were on the stairs and heading to the sixth floor to
    visit James when suddenly Von came rushing past them, hell bent for leather.
    The two Seekers exchanged a look, then began running behind him, trying
    and failing to keep up. They finally emerged on the fifth floor to find
    Von quite literally ripping the double layers of elevator doors clean
    off their tracks despite his recent wounds. The horror that met their
    eyes when the doors were opened was gruesome. 
    
    Ray was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. A Rexlor demon
    hovered over him, Tom on it's back as he did to the demon what Von had
    done to the doors. The Moloch was bleeding from a dozen cuts to his arms
    and torso, but he fought on. The Rexlor slammed itself against the wall
    of the elevator, finally dislodging Tom. He dropped to the floor, but
    Von was already moving and he seized the partially dissected demon around
    the throat and snapped its neck. 
    
    The Rexlor went down and stayed there.
    
    Peter picked his way past the heap of partially dissected flash to reach
    Kowalski's side. "He's got a pulse," declared Dire, one hand at Ray's
    neck.  "Where are the - hey! You there! Quickly!" he ordered as an orderly
    approached, gaping at the carnage and the destroyed elevator. "Quickly!"
    
    Turnbull was applying pressure to Tom's arms with all his weight. Tom
    went limp in his hold. Dire glanced up as the psychic collapsed. 
    
    "The venom. We need a doctor. Now!"
    
    ***
    
    Von helped his Elder through the door of the waiting room. The room was
    empty save for Dire. 
    
    "What happened?" Calhoun demanded. "Where's Tom? Where's Kowalski?" 
    
    "Surgery...both of them..." Dire started. He looked up at the two Sabbat.
    "There was a Rexlor demon. They'll be fine as soon as the venom is extracted...I
    say, all the staff here seem to know you fellas by your first names.
    Do you get discounts for frequent admissions?" 
    
    ***
    
    "No. He's not here, Benny...maybe he went to the hospital to see Calhoun,"
    Vecchio rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked at the ceiling. 
    
    Said Fraser, "He's not answering his cellular."
    
    "Maybe he turned it off." Vecchio glanced at Stella, warily. The phone
    on the far wall rang, counterpoint with his using his cell phone. He
    knew Ray wouldn't do that until Benny was home. But what could have happened?
    What- 
    
    Stella...no, Irene grabbed his sleeve, yanking on it. "Ray!" She looked
    stricken.
    
    "Just a second, Fraser." He looked at his wife, worried. "What's the
    matter?"
    
    "It's the hospital. It's about Ray."
    
    "Hold on, Benny. What, Irene?"
    
    "He's been stabbed. He didn't have a vest on. He's been rushed to emergency
    surgery." 
    
    "Oh, god. Call Welsh, will you?  Benny," he returned his attention to
    the Mountie. "You hear that?"
    
    The constable was calm and Vecchio knew he was keeping a tight reign
    on his reaction.  "Yes, Ray, I did. I'm going to Heathrow now.  I'll
    be on the first available flight. If there's any developments, please
    call the consulate here and they can contact the airport."  He finished
    with the phone number, his voice betraying nothing, which said everything
    to the Italian. 
    
    "Soon as I know."
    
    "Thank you kindly, Ray."
    
    "He'll be okay, Benny. He's a scrapper."
    
    "I...I know."
    
    ***
    
    "Your consort okay?"
    
    Calhoun looked up at his second. "Don't tell me you /care/."
    
    "Not really, I'm just impressed that he had the balls to keep his word.
    I like that in people I hate." 
    
    "Get out of my sight." He had no idea what Von was talking about, but
    it was getting bothersome.
    
    Von laughed, glad his Elder was feeling better, and left.
    
    When Von was gone, Tara stood up from the seat by the window, making
    her way towards the Sabbat Elder. "He'll be all right," she said quietly.
    She was so calm. Concentrated. He stared up at her, frowning. How could
    she be calm at a time like this? 
    
    "I can't feel him." He felt her hand touch his cheek again, and gave
    her an odd look. She didn't back off this time. "Why can't I feel him?"
    
    "He's...on another plane. In between worlds. You can go to him. If you
    want. I can help."
    
    Calhoun considered. "Will it take very long?"
    
    "As long as it takes. Why?"
    
    "Prince Kowalski. I can't leave him. He never left me from the time the
    Initiative attacked us. I won't let him wake up alone." 
    
    Gently, she smiled, touched by his concern. "I'll make sure you're back
    before he wakes up, Jamey." 
    
    ***
    
    He felt like he was floating on water. A very, very cold hand touched
    his face, and he smiled. "James?" He opened his eyes. Xander. "What..."
    
    Xander grinned, looking down at Tom. "Calm it, Tom Cat. I think you need
    a few less doses of caffeine in your diet." He grabbed Tom by the wrist,
    careful of the scars. Scars? They were scars in the Arcanum? "Ouch. That
    looks like it hurt." 
    
    Tom stared at him. "Why am I here?"
    
    "The ladies want to have a chat."
    
    "But...but they're in Sophia."
    
    Xander looked thoughtful. "You're right. So, I guess it must be someone
    else. Come on." He pulled Tom along with him.
    
    ***
    
    He sat in the plane trying his best to relax and failing miserably. 
    Severe thunder showers over New York were delaying his flight. Fraser
    had already tried every trick he knew to calm himself. Ray was injured,
    perhaps dying, and here he was stuck in London. He told himself repeatedly
    that there was nothing more he /could/ do right now and so fell into
    a depressed funk. 
    
    /How's the Yank, Ben?/
    
    He looked at his father, happily lounging in the empty seat beside him.
    
    "The hospital couldn't say yet."
    
    /Why don't you try to sleep, Son? Do you a world of good./
    
    "Not easily done, Dad," he said quietly.
    
    /You say that now. Wait until you see the in-flight movie./
    
    ***
    
    Vecchio sat by Stan's hospital bed, the sound of the life support machines
    an odd tempo to his anger. He and Ray Kowalski were not the best of friends
    but they were close and Ma considered him her youngest, strangest son.
    
    The other detective was in stable condition, but in so much pain the
    doctors had had to sedate him.  He was on a respirator to take the stress
    off his punctured lung and the doctors didn't expect him to be on it
    very long. 
    
    Vecchio leaned forward, sighing. This was so unfair. He felt Stella's
    hands on his shoulders, rubbing hard. She was just as angry as he. Maybe
    even more so. She'd once loved this man, Ray Kowalski. In certain ways,
    she still did. 
    
    ***
    
    Tom blinked at the slimy figure sitting at the desk before him. Wyrm.
    Or a representation of him. Whatever it was, it was hideous to see and
    worse to smell. Even he, Thomas Grissom, the man without taste, would
    not wear that tie. And those Stanley glasses were...well, Stan's.  He
    looked to Xander, standing in the shadows just a few feet away, who shrugged
    helplessly. 
    
    "What the hell's going on?"
    
    "Did you enjoy my last gift to you, Seer?" Wyrm's rumbling voice was
    gritty. Forced. The power of those who held him in their grips was strong,
    but Tom was still afraid. 
    
    "The Rexlor." He took a breath, feeling very angry. "What is it you want,
    Wyrm?" He felt a cold hand on his shoulder, and turned around. Xander.
    "What does he want?" 
    
    "It's time."
    
    "Time?" Tom blinked, rapidly. "Time for what?"
    
    Xander smiled, sadly. "You know what."
    
    "No. No, I..." He turned, staring at something on the far wall. "What
    the hell is going on?" 
    
    "The perfect war, Seer." Wyrm's voice was filled with amusement.
    
    Tom stared at the body lying at the far end of the chapel and made his
    way towards it. He stared at it, and looked up to see Xander still in
    front of him. "Why?" 
    
    Xander glanced at Wyrm, obviously scared out of his mind. What little
    there seemed to be of it, anyway. "Because he can. It's all he can do
    now. His own revenge." 
    
    Tom's gaze went back to the body on the floor. It was starting to stir.
    The burn marks on it's arms were fairly disturbing. "Who is it?"
    
    "Don't you know?"
    
    Tom nodded. It was him. In a way. Him, but not him. Just like the Von
    he had killed. He sighed. "What happens to me?"
    
    "What happened to me. You'll wander until someone figures it out. Until
    someone puts it right." 
    
    "And then?"
    
    Xander shrugged. "Who knows?"
    
    ***
    
    Tara shook her head. "I can't get through..." She moved her hands from
    Tom's bandaged chest, looking wide-eyed at Calhoun. "It's as if he doesn't
    want anyone through."
    
    Calhoun made a small noise in his throat as he leaned over and kissed
    Tom's forehead. "Typical," he muttered, closing his eyes. Tired. He was
    so tired, and now this. 
    
    "Let me in," he begged in a whisper.
    
    ***
    
    "Dad?"
    
    /Try the chicken, Son./
    
    "Dad, will you go check on Ray for me?"
    
    /Only if you eat./
    
    "I'll try. Please, Dad."
    
    /Hmm. Let me know how the movie ends./
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun brushed the hair out of his lover's eyes and took his hand gently.
    
    And that was when he noticed it.
    
    No scars. No wounds at all on his wrists or arms. They were clean, as
    if they'd never been marred at all by knives or glass. He narrowed his
    eyes, then looked farther. 
    
    That stupid tattoo, the one of the Pokey Little Puppy that Tom was so
    defensive of, that was gone as well. 
    
    Burns. Second degree burns on both arms, not very large in diameter.
    Bite marks on the neck, and wrist. He raised his eyebrows, "What the
    hell...." 
    
    The Tom he knew and loved so completely was gone. This man was...what
    was he? 
    
    Tom stirred, rolling his head to the side. Tara was actively worried
    now as well. She could sense a change. A dark, foreboding change. Not
    good at all. She listened close as the psychic opened his lips, whispering
    quietly in his sleep. 
    
    "Caine..." he whispered, rolling his head to the other side. "M'lord..."
    
    Calhoun looked up at Tara sharply. She was frowning. "What's happened?"
    He knew. At least, he thought he did.
    
    "I'm not sure."
    
    "What did this?" He indicated the burns.
    
    "It's...I don't know..." Tara touched the man's face, concentrating.
    "He's blocking me."
    
    ***
    
    He felt funny, his head full of cobwebs and fear. His arms hurt. Badly.
    Slowly, he opened his eyes, half expecting to see the church ceiling
    above him, Lilith and his daughter hovering over him attacking.
    
    Instead he got a girl and Elder Calhoun.
    
    Elder Calhoun...then he'd failed...oh God...
    
    He jumped to a sitting position, staring wide-eyed at the Elder. "I'm
    sorry...I don't...I didn't..."  He reached out, but didn't dare touch
    the vampire. 
    
    The Elder stared at him, confused. "Tom?"
    
    Tom. Not Grissom. Not Moloch. Not courtesan. Tom. Why? Had he...done
    something? Had he missed something? Had it been a dream, all the deaths?
    He had felt them all. Couldn't help feel them all. Especially Caine's
    at his son's hands. 
    
    His son.
    
    Adam.
    
    ***
    
    Aja entered the hospital room, staring at his father as the Higher backed
    up on the bed, bringing his knees to his chest. His father looked positively
    scared to death of...him? 
    
    "Daddy? What's the matter?" He stepped towards his father, worried. "Father?"
    
    The brown eyes grew huge with panic. "Stay back. Stay away from me."
    Tom looked absolutely hysterical. 
    
    Tara frowned, concentrating, and then smiled. She held her hand out to
    Tom, trying to look as friendly as possible. "It's all right," she soothed.
    "You're safe here. No one can hurt you here." 
    
    "Where am I... this isn't the right place..." he whispered, taking her
    hand, holding it tightly.
    
    Calhoun looked at Tara, confused. "What's happened?"
    
    "I'll explain it later..."
    
    Calhoun stared at her, confused. "I don't..."
    
    "Tell us who you are," she prodded. "How you got here..."
    
    He stared at her then shook his head, ducking it down. "I need to see
    Cecil. He's here. I can feel him." He wouldn't talk to any of them until
    he saw Cecil. He did not feel safe here. He felt bad. Very bad. He didn't
    trust Cecil, not anymore, but the man had been a source of stability.
    He'd never made Tom do anything he didn't want. 
    
    Well, almost. Kinda.
    
    Calhoun stepped back. "He was here earlier to give me an update on the
    baby."
    
    "We'll find him." Tara looked to Aja and nodded. "Find him? Please?"
    
    ***
    
    Cecil looked up from the forms he'd been told to fill out to see his
    oldest son running straight at him. He gave an 'oof!' as the boy king
    grabbed him by the hand and yanked. Hard. "Adam, what's wrong? Where
    are we going?" 
    
    "Pater, something is wrong with daddy..."
    
    Cecil needed no other explanation.
    
    When they finally got to the hospital room, he was struck immediately
    by the difference in Tom's persona. The way he held himself. It wasn't
    Tom. Not really. 
    
    But he recognized it. The defeated look. The slumped shoulders. It was
    a look Tom had worn for months before Cecil Noor had finally intervened.
    
    He looked vulnerable. Weak. He was shaking and much too thin.
    
    This was not their Tom.
    
    But it was a Tom.
    
    And that would have to suffice.
    
    Calhoun looked over at him, all dark and dangerous. "He wants you." 
    
    Tom looked up at Cecil, who was still holding Aja's small hand, and wept.
    
    ***
    
    He awoke to dull lights and boring walls, a soft bed with a warm cover,
    echoing noises and the wondrous smell of blood in the air. Ray Kowalski
    opened his eyes slowly, not recognizing this place at all. Where was
    he? And who was this - Vecchio? 
    
    He stared at the man asleep beside his bed. Ray Vecchio. There was no
    mistaking that nose. Vecchio was alive? What was he doing in Canada?
    
    This was Canada, wasn't it?
    
    Ray looked around, wondering why he was in what was clearly a hospital
    and why Vecchio was here and where the hell was Fraser and Diefenbaker?
    
    Someone approached. Ray squinted, recognizing that walk more than the
    blurred features until the man got up close. He stared. This man he /definitely/
    knew beyond the shadow of a doubt was d-e-d, dead. 
    
    "Elder Calhoun!" he breathed, stunned.
    
    The vampire frowned in confusion, casting an odd look at Ray and sniffing
    the air. 
    
    "What? Prince Kowalski, you never call me that."
    
    A smile lit Ray's face. "Prince! Who are ya kiddin'?"
    
    Calhoun stared. No. This couldn't be.
    
    Ray was a vampire.
    
    A Gangrel.
    
    But there was no violence. Vecchio certainly wasn't dead. What had happened?
    His thoughts momentarily turned back to the Moloch the next floor up.
    
    "Pr..." Calhoun stopped himself then continued slowly. "Ray...what's
    the last thing you remember?" 
    
    He smiled, all sunshine and delight. "Frase and me fixed the roof of
    the cabin, then he went to visit his sister and I went to sleep." 
    
    "Are you injured in any way?" pressed Calhoun.
    
    Ray shook his head, noticing Tara. "Nope. Hi."
    
    She smiled back, unable to stop herself. "Hi, Ray. I'm Tara."
    
    He returned his attention to James, taking in the punk haircut and the
    indisputable fact that his Elder was not destroyed. He wanted to touch
    him and reassure himself that this man was really there. But something
    was wrong. Elder  Calhoun was never this...patient. He was on edge. Always.
    
    "Calhoun, where's here? Where's Fraser? Why am I in a hospital? How come
    Vecchio's still alive? How are you still here? I'd heard...Warfield and
    you..." 
    
    "Ray, where do you live now?"
    
    "Fraser's cabin in the Northwest Areas."
    
    "Territories," corrected the vampire. "Did Armageddon hit?"
    
    Ray laughed, rousing Vecchio from his sleep. "Armageddon? What the hell,
    yer gettin' biblical on me, Elder!" 
    
    Calhoun didn't laugh.
    
    ***
    
    Cecil sat on the bed, talking as calmly as he could to try and calm Tom
    down while the others watched. Just asking questions, quickly and calmly.
    
    Finally Tom started answering. And he couldn't have been more shocked
    by the answers.
    
    "Where did we first meet, Tom?" The questions was innocent enough. They'd
    met at the Drewry conference. 
    
    Tom's voice was halting. Choked up. He was very afraid. Trembling, almost.
    "I...was a...." He searched for a word, trying not to sound like he was
    still crying. "A pet..." A whore. Sex slave. A pet. Whatever. "I was...nothing
    more than a cat that got fucked and fed every day and a half." He wasn't
    even aware of Adam anymore. "You found me. Bought me." He sighed. 
    
    Cecil paused, confused. He looked towards Aja, frowning. That had not
    been it at all. He could see his son knew that from the confusion on
    his face. "We had a child?" 
    
    "Children. Adam...and Cassandra?" Tom winced at their names.
    
    "What happened to them?" He stroked Tom's hair as the Moloch shrank against
    him, trembling. The site of Adam was making the demon nervous. 
    
    "Ad...Adam turned bad...ate Lord Caine alive...Cassandra...got turned
    by Lilith..."
    
    Aja clapped a hand over his mouth in nauseous shock.
    
    "And you. What happened to you?"
    
    "I gave up Turnbull and Thatcher and Warfield. They all died. Everyone
    died. Everyone who tried to help me." 
    
    "I didn't."
    
    They all looked up at Ray Kowalski as he was followed into the room by
    Calhoun. 
    
    "Hey, Tom Cat. Seems like we've got us a problem."
    
    "Raymond?" asked Caine, looking up at the stranger that was his son.
    
    Kowalski flinched, recoiling at the sight of the despised child that
    had planned the destruction of Chicago's underground forces. Aja was
    hurt, but patient. 
    
    "Raymond, please. I am not what you think I am, just as you are not what
    I expected." 
    
    "Yer Tom's kid. A bit older."
    
    "I am. This body is the son of Thomas Grissom and Cecil Noor. I am also
    Caine." He glanced at Calhoun. "You have spoken to the Elder?" 
    
    "Yeah, a little."
    
    "We must talk. I have to find where my son is."
    
    "Son? Aintcha a bit young fer a kid there, Caine?"
    
    "I wasn't always six. And Raymond Kowalski is my son and my prince. Elder!"
    
    "My lord?" asked James, startling Ray and Grissom with his subordinate
    attitude. 
    
    "Please attend me. We have much to discuss."
    
    ***
    
    Vecchio stood at the pay phone in the lobby of the hospital. He couldn't
    get through to the consulate in London. He couldn't get through to Benny...
    
    He heard a familiar voice in the lobby. Dire. Vecchio pounced upon the
    Seeker. 
    
    "I need to get a hold of Benny - I mean Fraser!"
    
    "Something amiss?"
    
    "You've got no idea."
    
    "You're absolutely right, Detective." Dire could see the Knight was quite
    disturbed by something. "What is it? Has something happened?"
    
    "Something weird's happened to Stan. Come on, we have to get to the airport."
    
    "Lead on, brave knight! I am your squire!"
    
    ***
    
    Fraser glanced at his father as the elder Fraser returned. "What is it?"
    His father looked positively perplexed.
    
    /He couldn't see me. Your Yank. He ignored me./
    
    "What?" Fraser blinked, frowning. "How is that possible? He sees dead
    people..." 
    
    /I'm not sure, son./
    
    "Perhaps..." Fraser closed his eyes, glad that they were nearly there.
    "Perhaps it's a blessing in disguise. He never liked being able to see
    the deceased."
    
    /No, you're quite right./
    
    Fraser felt faint. Something was terribly wrong. And it wasn't just limited
    to his lover not seeing his father. Something had gone horribly wrong.
    He clutched the arms of the seat and prayed. 
    
    ***
    
    Grissom shrank closer against Cecil, trembling at the sight of all of
    them. Except Cecil. Calhoun couldn't help but feel hurt about that. What
    had his unknown twin done to this man to make him so afraid? 
    
    Cecil didn't seem to mind that Grissom was practically quaking in his
    arms like a frightened kitten. Suddenly a thought came to the Sabbat's
    mind. He moved forward, carefully moving towards this Tom as he heard
    Caine, Tara and the newer Ray try to figure out what had happened. 
    
    "You're mostly Moloch. Aren't you?"
    
    Grissom looked surprised. He nodded, rapidly. "Uh huh..."
    
    "You aren't a Slayer."
    
    He almost smiled at the notion. "No."
    
    "Your lover never beat you. Never hit you or anything." James wasn't
    exactly sure what he was doing. Maybe trying to prove to himself that
    this was not his Tom. 
    
    "Cecil hurt me the most when he sold me to Caine..." Grissom smiled weakly.
    He buried his face in Cecil's shoulder, sighing weakly. 
    
    James gave the Enthos demon a look. "What about Alex? Your parents?"
    
    "Alex? God...Alex would never hurt me....My parents...I was taken from
    them at a few months old. They had some debts and since I'm psychic they
    got a good price.  From what I was told, they were killed in a car accident."
    At that, Grissom quieted down. 
    
    Tara clapped her hands, looking quite amused at something Ray had said.
    The Sabbat turned his gaze on her. "Apparently in their world, Lilith
    came to power." 
    
    "Among other things." He looked back at Grissom. "Listen to me...Grissom.
    You too, Ray. Lilith never took power here. We stopped her. Ray, our
    Ray isn't a vampire, he's a ghoulite and the only Caanite prince, as
    well as a Seer and a Knight. He was never Gangrel. I am not Gangrel anymore,
    I'm Sabbat. Tom is psychic, but he's also a Slayer Born." He paused.
    Grissom was wide-eyed, Ray just interested. "Tom and I have two daughters
    and Cecil is carrying our third." 
    
    Ray blinked. Grissom drew back, staring at the Enthos in total shock.
    
    "Fraser is a Slayer Born and Bred, as well as our Ray's lover."
    
    A sneaky grin split Ray's face again.  The man was positively irresistible.
    
    "Diefenbaker has reversed - he's in child form most of the time now and
    Ray considers him his son.  Lord Caine has declared Ray his son and heir.
    Prince Warfield - " 
    
    Grissom flinched and let out a small cry, clinging to Cecil.
    
    "Prince Warfield is vassal to my lord, as is Elder Zuko and the entire
    Giovanni and Tremere clans." 
    
    "Wow," commented Ray. He plopped down into a chair. "You guys had it
    easy.  Damn near everyone got killed where we lived. You killed that
    fucker Turnbull, Elder, for what he did to Tom Cat here, who belonged
    to Caine. What were you again?" 
    
    Grissom wouldn't look up. "A courtesan."
    
    "Raymond," Aja said, "You were asleep before coming here. Did you dream,
    my childe?" 
    
    "Dream. Yeah. Why?" Ray stared at the kid they claimed was Caine. "What
    of it?" 
    
    "What did you dream?"
    
    Ray tilted his head, trying to remember. "I dunno. I shouldn'ta dreamed
    period. Something about a giant snake. Don't remember all of it. It was
    pretty messed up. I mean, he wore glasses like my old ones and a bad
    tie and he was laughin' at something or someone. Why?" 
    
    Aja paled, turning to an equally distressed Cecil. "Wyrm."
    
    "Wyrm?" Ray shook his head. "What?"
    
    "A demon. A higher. The Wyrm of the Earth. He tried to initiate Armageddon.
    It worked. Wyrm and D'Hoffryn battled us. The world nearly went up in
    flames..." Aja stopped, and stared at the man who could pass for his
    father. "You aren't a Slayer. You're quite certain?" 
    
    "No," Then he ducked his head down, staring at the sheets. "I mean, no,
    I'm not. A Slayer..." Grissom shook his head, trying to calm down. This
    was not his son. No one was going get eaten here. Everything was fine.
    This child was...what his Adam should have been. 
    
    "Then what are you, Thomas? I can feel power in you. You are not just
    a pet. What are you?" 
    
    "He's an Oracle," Ray answered for Grissom. "Like that Greek thing. Oracle
    of Delphi, or what ever. Before Caine got his teeth into him, he was
    the Oracle of Baltimore." 
    
    "An Oracle." Aja looked at Cecil, then at Grissom. "I don't think we
    have that here..." 
    
    Grissom shrugged, not looking like he cared. He glanced at Ray and frowned.
    "I don't want to go back." 
    
    "Well I do," stated the vampire with finality. "I've got a hunka burnin'
    love waitin' for me in a little cabin just below the Arctic Circle. I
    mean, it's nice seein' that yer world turned out cool and not everyone
    bit the dust here, but my Fraser's waitin' for me and let me tell ya,
    if you knew sushi like I knew sushi..." 
    
    Grissom felt a wave of calm come over him, and sat up straight. "Is there...is
    there a chapel here?" 
    
    He received several strange looks. "Why?" Cecil finally asked.
    
    "I just..." He wasn't used to being questioned. "I need to see a chapel..."
    
    "By the main lobby," said James. Cecil gave him a look. "I only know
    because I can't go in the main doors here, Noor!" 
    
    Ray chuckled. "Place looks the same. C'mon, Tom Cat, I'll take ya." 
    
    The Moloch smiled the tiniest bit at the vampire. "Thank you, Ray. And
    Ray?" 
    
    "Huh?"
    
    "Thank you for...for..." For before. For all he tried to do to save him
    and Adam. For helping Calhoun fight his war. 
    
    Ray smiled, and in that instant, everyone present knew why Benton Fraser
    was so madly in love. 
    
    "Yer welcome, Tom."
    
    ***
    
    Vecchio sighed. Another two hours. Damned weather over New York.
    
    "Shall we wait?" wondered Dire.
    
    He sighed. He didn't want Benny to find out Stan wasn't Ray from that
    hack Cecil or Mr. Subtlety, Major Calhoun. 
    
    "You okay with waiting, Dire?"
    
    "I am but a humble squire with tomorrow off. Lead on."
    
    ***
    
    Grissom sat in front of the alter, legs in lotus position as he concentrated
    on the flickers of the candles in front of him. Slowly, his eyes drifted
    shut. His breathing grew rapid and shallow as his mind opened, and took
    in the world. 
    
    Images flowed through his mind, slowly at first then going faster. Harder.
    He was only dimly aware of the eyes on him as his body ached to take
    in more of the universe's secrets. More knowledge of what was to come...
    
    He could see a young girl with ebony hair and ice blue eyes, beautiful.
    Vulnerable. Fearless. A hard-knocks-lookiing man. Dead, but not dead.
    A ghost. A marriage. No children. The insubstantional cannot bear children.
    But they were so full of joy. 
    
    His heart thumped hard in his chest as the images went faster, almost
    a blur in his mind, but he still remembered every detail. Every nuance.
    He could feel eyes on him. The Sabbat. Cecil. Ray. 
    
    The minute he'd entered the chapel, it had become desanctified. James
    had felt that first. It had to be something from their universe. That
    had never happened with his Tom. James had not seen the interior of a
    church since the Second World War. 
    
    Grissom's head tilted forward, panting as if from exertion. Neither his
    Tom nor Ray's visions had been like this. This man almost seemed to be
    getting a kick out of it. 
    
    Grissom let out another breathy sigh, letting his head fall back until
    he was staring at the skylight above him. He could see the dead rising.
    He could see the sky burning. He could see rebirth. 
    
    He saw Fraser, the Mountie, not the one he'd known in his Chicago. This
    was the Fraser that belonged in this universe. He was happy beyond words.
    Total and complete satisfaction. His world was so right...and it was
    so deserved. 
    
    He saw Turnbull and suppressed a shudder. This was not the man he'd known,
    the one that had been so cruel for so long. Who had hidden it so well.
    An agent of Lilith. No, this man, the one James had called Seeker, he
    was smiling, delighted, holding an infant in his arms. 
    
    And then he fell back with a cry, staring at the ceiling breathlessly.
    He felt Ray's hand around his arm, pulling him to his feet. "Yer a freak,
    ya know that, right?" the Gangrel demanded. 
    
    ***
    
    Aja approached James, who was sitting outside the chapel now and looking
    rather pensive. "Elder Calhoun..." 
    
    He gazed at the child. "I...I can't feel him, my lord."
    
    "I see." Aja closed his eyes, sitting next to the Sabbat. "He's not dead.
    You would know. I would know." 
    
    "Did they switch places?"
    
    "I pray not..."
    
    ***
    
    Vecchio saw Fraser first and despite the crowd of passengers coming through
    customs, he pushed forward. "Benny!" 
    
    He looked exhausted but fit. Ray gripped his hand, quickly checking him
    over. 
    
    "You all over the poison?" he demanded. "You feeling okay?"
    
    "I'm fine Ray," assured the Mountie. He looked over at Dire, who was
    grinning like an idiot. "Constable Dire, good to see you again. How is
    Ray, Ray?" 
    
    "We gotta talk, Benny. Something weird's happened. We have Stan, but
    he's a different version of the Stan Kowalski we know. He's from another
    Chicago where Lilith won and almost everyone we know died in a clan war."
    
    Fraser stared at him, his heart sinking in his breast.
    
    "Where is my Ray?"
    
    "We don't know."
    
    And still he stared, trying to deny the truth. "You're...joking, right?
    This is some sort of joke that Ray told you to..." 
    
    "Benny." Vecchio's stricken look told him all.
    
    "How? Where did he go? People don't just vanish into thin air."
    
    "People did."
    
    Fraser blinked. "People. This has happened to others."
    
    "It's not just Stan. Tom's gone, too."
    
    ***
    
    Ray plopped on the chair next to James and flashed him a grin. "Oracles,"
    he scoffed, shaking his head. "The few, the proud, the terminally horny."
    
    "What happened in there?" the Sabbat asked quietly. He wasn't sure he
    wanted to know. 
    
    Ray shrugged. "Hard to explain. Something to do with being a sexual oracle.
    They get really intense visions when they're in the moment. And if they
    aren't in the moment, and the powers that be want to tell them a little
    secret, then...bam!" Ray grinned, shaking his head. 
    
    "Better than our Seers, I suppose. They get nose bleeds and seizures."
    
    "Ouch. Somebody must hate them," James grunted and Ray raised an eyebrow.
    "Hey." 
    
    "What?"
    
    "In your world, did you and me ever uh..." Ray raised his eyesbrows suggestively.
    
    James nearly fell out of his chair. "No!" He sat still. "Not really,"
    he added. 
    
    "Hmm," said Ray in a tone the Elder did not like in the least. "Ever
    want to?" 
    
    "Want?" echoed the Sabbat.
    
    "Ever...act on it?"
    
    James just gave him a look.
    
    "Huh. Too bad." He leaned a little closer, eyeing the Sabbat. "Where
    I come from, we...enjoyed each other's company a lot."  He gave him a
    lopsided smile.  "I've missed you, James. We were...quite the pair."
    
    Weird to hear his name from this man's lips. The Elder looked at him
    thoughtfully, remembering a time when he would have gladly pursued this
    offer. He sighed.  "I'm a Sabbat, Ray. My blood is pure poison to you."
    
    The smile widened. "Yeah, but I'm a Gangrel and I'm pure dessert." 
    
    James chuckled. "What about Fraser? And Tom?"
    
    Ray joined him in laughing. "Just checking, Boss."
    
    ***
    
    Cecil sat next to Grissom on a pew, watching him in wonder. Finally unafraid,
    this demon Oracle seemed as different from James' Tom as night was different
    from day. There was a light in his eyes, a giddy sort of happiness. 
    
    And he was happy. Very happy, it would seem. At least as long as he was
    lost in this vision. 
    
    Grissom was looking back at him, and he felt a momentary bit of guilt.
    "I'm not like your Cecil." 
    
    Grissom smiled, looking amused. "Because you're not with him?"
    
    "I was with him. I hurt him once." He didn't elaborate.
    
    But Grissom pushed. "Hurt him how?" The strange smile didn't waver a
    bit. 
    
    "I...was overzealous one night. I drugged him, and I..."
    
    Grissom nodded, understanding. "Fucked him. More than a little overzealous.
    He left you?" 
    
    "No."
    
    "Oh. Well, then you must not have hurt him. Does he hate you?"
    
    "No, but..."
    
    "You saved his life. Yes? From someone who did hurt him? A lot?" He continued
    at Cecil's nod. "Well. Perhaps he loved you enough to forgive you." 
    
    ***
    
    To the distress of the hospital, all four patients checked out en mass
    despite the fact that according to their records, none of them, be it
    Von, James, Ray, or Grissom, should have been able to walk. Then Vecchio
    arrived with Fraser and everyone did an about-face in the lobby and raided
    the cafeteria. 
    
    Fraser and Ray stood apart for a long moment, sizing each other up. To
    their lover's eyes, clearly this was not their partner. Still, as they
    quietly talked and Fraser tried to reign in his emotions, it was obvious
    there was an inevitable attraction between the two. How could they not
    feel something for the other? 
    
    Then Grissom came in and walked directly to Fraser. He lifted his hands,
    holding Fraser's face as he looked intently at him. 
    
    "Faith, loving Soul. He is yours as you are his. Do not despair." 
    
    He smiled gently and Fraser stared in quiet shock. Ray smiled knowingly.
    "Any wonder he was Caine's favorite courtesan?" he muttered to James.
    
    Then all three McGets walked into the room, Jay despairing over the shine
    on his uniform shoes and Mina and Lucia offering no sympathy. 
    
    "Elder!" exclaimed Jay.
    
    "Sire!" James shot right back at him, and if he was still capable of
    it, Jay would have blushed. 
    
    "Hi," said Ray, surprised to see fellow Gangrel. He knew they were the
    same clan automatically. "Ray Kowalski. Who're you guys?" 
    
    ***
    
    Tom opened his eyes, slowly, his blurred vision slowly clearing. His
    chest hurt, his lungs feeling charred. He stared at the figure above
    him, gaping as he realized who it was. "James..." 
    
    The vampire frowned at the familiarity. "'bout fucking time you woke
    up, /Moloch/." This was James, there was no mistaking that but...something
    was wrong with him. Changed. Emotionally and physically, this was /not/
    his James Calhoun. He was covered in blood, clothes torn and gashes all
    over his body. His hair was longer and his gaze was hardened. 
    
    He found himself pinned to the floor, and suddenly very afraid for his
    life. The vampire was smelling him, inhaling deeply. "What-" 
    
    "We tried to help you. We're all dead now. Vecchio. Caine. Everybody.
    Killed by that little brat of yours and his followers. They think I was
    killed. I very nearly was." He nipped, not very gently at Tom's neck.
    The Higher yelped. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't eat you." 
    
    "You love me."
    
    Calhoun snorted, "Huh. Yeah, maybe," and bit down. Hard. It was a desperate
    pressure, that of a vampire who depserately needing feeding. Tom arched
    his back, trying to throw the thing off. Unable to speak, his muscles
    tensing inside him. "Stop...please..." 
    
    Finally the teeth tore away, and he fell back against the cement floor,
    staring at the ceiling of the osarie. It smelled of death. "What...what's
    happening..." 
    
    "I want to rebuild my clan. I want to take out that little shit of yours.
    He /ate/ Caine." Calhoun easily held Tom down. "I've never tried to change
    a demon. But Lilith did it to your little girl. Maybe I can do it to
    you." 
    
    "No. Please." What had happened to this man? Why was he doing this? He
    felt teeth at his neck again and cried out. "Stop!" 
    
    ***
    
    James opened his eyes, looking over at Tara. "He's hurt."
    
    "What?"
    
    "Tom. My Tom. He's hurt..."
    
    The Oracle turned at the sound of his name. "You can feel him?"
    
    "I can. He's hurting. Bleeding."
    
    The Oracle touched the side of the Sabbat's face, concentrating. He winced
    in pain, hand going to the bite wounds at his own neck. Finally he turned
    to Ray Kowalski. "Elder Calhoun." 
    
    Asked James, "What?"
    
    "Not you. Him."
    
    Ray blinked, afraid to hope. "He's /dead/."
    
    "Apparently not."
    
    "He's hurting your Tom?" Ray blinked again, swearing under his breath.
    "Hurting how?" 
    
    "Feeding off of him and feeding to him."
    
    "Shit. Then, where's the other Ray?"
    
    ***
    
    Tom choked as the blood was forced down his throat, fighting to cough
    it back up. "Stop. Please. You can't do this. You don't know..." He fought
    to keep his emotions at a minimum before he warped and just flat-out
    killed Calhoun. He needed to understand what was happening here first...
    
    "I know. You're not ours," spat the vampire. "You're a Higher. So be
    it. If I can't make you one of us, I'll take your power." He dug his
    fangs in for again. 
    
    "And if you can't do that?"
    
    He received only a deeper bite as his answer.
    
    /James...James, help me.../
    
    ***
    
    Major James Calhoun closed his eyes, concentrating. He could re-establish
    the link on his own. He'd done it before. Now that Tom was aware, he
    was willing, screaming out for him, he could feel it... 
    
    There. Tom. Terrified. He was being attacked by...what James had once
    been. A monster. Little better than an animal. 
    
    A Gangrel. He lacked the blood of the Giovanni, of the Caanites, of the
    Ancients. 
    
    He was not a Sabbat. That would be his doom.
    
    "Touch him," whispered James, unaware he spoke aloud. "Touch him, get
    into him..." 
    
    ***
    
    Tom reached up a trembling hand and placed it on the vampire's face.
    
    ***
    
    Aja was the first to notice that their resident Sabbat was fighting a
    mental battle. Fraser and Ray were instantly alerted as the young king
    took up post right in front of the Elder. James' eyes were closed and
    he quaked with the effort of building up the power for his planned attack.
    He clenched his teeth, concentrating, then with a harsh cry of pain he
    launched his assault on his counterpart. A psychic blast, channeled through
    Tom. 
    
    With a startled yelp, Ray collapsed. Fraser barely kept him from braining
    himself on the floor. 
    
    "Wow," murmured the vampire, impressed. "Worked." Then he passed out.
    
    ***
    
    The blast ripped through him and past him, into the deranged version
    of his lover. Calhoun let out a scream of pure agony and clutched his
    head, releasing Tom as he staggered back. He fell, almost unconscious,
    stunned at what basically came down to being bitchslapped by himself.
    A much stronger and very angry version of himself. 
    
    "Wha-what the fuck?" gasped the Gangrel a few minutes later.
    
    Tom slowly sat up, clutching his neck. He was panting, his heart racing
    and not just because he was frightened. James. He could feel James again.
    His Lupa. 
    
    "Don't try that again, Elder," warned Tom.
    
    Calhoun glared at him and slowly smiled. "Should I bring you your things?"
    
    ***
    
    "Ray." A brush of lips against his cheek. Feather soft and light. "Ray,
    wake up..." Familiar arms went around him, pulling him closer. He sighed
    into the embrace, smiling. His chest no longer hurt. He felt...healed.
    Odd. He should have been down for a while. He didn't have that wondrous
    metabolism that vampires did that let them take god-awful shots like
    the one he'd been dealt by that Rexlor and come back for more. 
    
    "What time is it?"
    
    "Seven."
    
    "In the morning."
    
    An amused tone of voice from the Mountie. "No. Night."
    
    "I slept all day?" He opened his eyes, staring deep into Ben Fraser's
    own. Why was it so cold? 
    
    Benton chuckled. "You usually do. That's what you..." He snuggled close
    then froze. "Ray." 
    
    "Mmm?"
    
    "You're warm!"
    
    Now it was Kowalski's turn to laugh. Was everything just a dream? Adolph,
    Wyrm, the stabbing? "I have been since Armageddon, Frase." 
    
    "Armageddon?"
    
    ***
    
    Ray opened his eyes, and found Grissom sitting beside him looking wide-eyed
    and afraid. He supposed the orgasmic high from the vision had finally
    worn off. Good. The guy got downright creepy when he was off on a run.
    
    "You okay?" he asked, sitting up and wondered why Grissom was sitting
    on the floor. 
    
    "My children are dead...Cecil is dead, Caine is dead..." The look in
    Grissom's eyes was scary. Frightening. "I...I have nothing left." 
    
    "Oh." Ray reached over, petting the Moloch Oracle lightly on the head.
    He'd seen Caine do that many times, it always seemed to calm him right
    down. The demon's chin came to rest on the Gangrel's knee, and he sighed.
    "It'll be ok. If you have to go back, me and Ben'll take care of ya."
    
    "I'm not a child," Grissom gripped his fingers around one of Ray's legs.
    He closed his eyes as the petting started anew. "I'm afraid..." 
    
    "I know. Go t'sleep. Ok?" Like the cat he so clearly was, it took Tom
    Cat scant seconds to fall asleep. He finally looked up, his eyes meeting
    the man who looked and acted so much like his Ben Fraser. "I need to
    get home. To my Ben." 
    
    "And him?" Fraser sat beside Ray, glancing at the trembling cat man.
    
    "Where I come from, Molochs are little more than glorified house pets.
    Except if you did what you do with a moloch to your average tabby, you'd
    be in prison for years." He sighed, stroking Grissom's hair lighter.
    "Demons are pretty highly respected. Especially primals. The Enthos are
    in the political game. Mostly senators and all that. But not the Molochs.
    They're pure sex and candy. Cecil and Tom...they weren't lovers." 
    
    Fraser looked down at the Moloch. "Noor owned him."
    
    "Pretty much. Bought him off a cathouse. He bore Cecil's children, and
    he might've even loved the guy...but Cecil didn't love him." 
    
    "How can you know for sure?"
    
    "Before he tried to make a run with Adam, Cecil'd sold the rights to
    Tom's person. To Caine. Tom was never a prisoner. He was always a pet."
    He smirked mirthlessly. "A favored pet, but a pet." 
    
    "And you?"
    
    "In the wrong place at the wrong time. Got bit by a guy I'd gone to stake.
    Went across. Ate my partner." 
    
    "Marcus Ellery. He bit you?"
    
    Ray raised his eyebrows. "How'd you know?"
    
    "It happened here. Except I stopped it in time."
    
    "Huh. Wish you'd been there. I hate being the only vampire who needs
    glasses." 
    
    ***
    
    With aching eyes, James looked up from the research tomes he, Aja, Turnbull
    and Tara were pouring over in the dining room as Fraser entered. The
    Sabbat felt...disturbed would be too light of a word. Terrified, perhaps.
    
    "You alright, Fraser?" James asked quietly. Fraser looked how he felt.
    
    Fraser shook his head, "No. I'm not. I'm far from alright." He turned
    to Turnbull. "Do we know who did this? How it happened?"
    
    Turnbull shook his head, "To be honest, I never even thought something
    like this was possible without a wish demon. A djin." 
    
    "But there are none in the area."
    
    "None," Aja confirmed. 
    
    Fraser sighed, sitting down and taking a book. "I don't know what to
    do." 
    
    "We'll get them back, Fraser." James tried to sound sure, but his voice
    wavered. "We have to." 
    
    "Yes."
    
    "I don't think I can stand that version of Tom another ten minutes. He..."
    The Elder searched for an explanation. "He gives me the creeps."
    
    Tara smiled. "The crawling heeby jeebies?"
    
    "Almost."
    
    The Ancient turned patient brown eyes on James. 
    
    "Remember, Elder, this other Thomas Grissom has received not one, but
    many traumas. He has been torn from his world and found himself surrounded
    by people he believed dead. Indeed, he expected to die himself. He is
    frightened by the changes facing him. In his world, he was little more
    than a toy, a brood mare and he may not understand our habit of treating
    everyone as equals, for clearly he was considered less than a man. Bring
    no shame upon yourself with such words, James, and be glad it is not
    thee." 
    
    Fraser nodded,  "But I have to admit, this version of Ray is not exactly
    my cup of tea." 
    
    "Makes you wonder what his Fraser's like."
    
    "Indeed." Fraser frowned. "From what I understand of their world, Lilith
    and Caine had both come to power. There was a struggle. Both sides lost."
    
    "I went insane. Vecchio was killed. Friendly fire." James nodded to Turnbull.
    "Apparently their Calhoun killed Turnbull." 
    
    "Who worked for Lilith," Turnbull supplied and shuddered. "As well as
    the Inspector." 
    
    "Who owned Tom Grissom," Tara added.
    
    Fraser shook his head. "Mr. Kowalski was quite admanent that Cecil, and
    then Caine owned him."
    
    "Either way..." James shrugged, rocking back in his chair as he stared
    at the ceiling. "And we thought our lives were like soap operas? Does
    this Ray have flashes?" 
    
    ***
    
    The Gangrel Calhoun dropped the worn cardboard box in front of Tom. "Your...his
    things. Caine had them stored under his buildings." 
    
    Tom opened the box, keeping one eye on James Calhoun. This creature must
    have been what James had been six long years ago. Before he'd rescued
    him from Lilith. He was frightening, clearly unstable but not beyond
    hope. So much about James was explained to Tom as he watched this damaged
    creature. 
    
    He picked up the framed photograph lying on top of everything else. In
    its gilt edges lay a photograph taken in a hospital. Cecil. Himself.
    A child. All three looked exhausted. Happy. 
    
    "No matter what Caine told you, it wasn't Warfield that had him killed.
    I swear." Calhoun sounded afraid of him. Huh. "It was Caine. Caine ordered
    him executed. Cecil...he was not in any way a good person. He didn't
    deserve your- HIS love." 
    
    Tom winced, then picked up another photograph. Two children. One, a girl,
    who looked similar enough to Cassie to be her, and Adam. His daughter
    was older.  Had blonde hair. Looked more human than anything. Adam...he
    looked vicious. Like he was playing up to the camera, but Tom could see
    in his eyes that he wasn't. The child was dangerous. 
    
    Calhoun hovered over him, trembling. He looked wasted. Emaciated. Tom
    wondered at the man. "How long has it been since you've fed?" 
    
    "Weeks...maybe longer...I-I was unconscious most of that time...in the
    mud and dirt." 
    
    "Oh." Tom picked up a sheaf of papers, all meticulously handwritten.
    "What's this?" 
    
    Calhoun peered down, shaking harder. The blood smell coming off of the
    demon beside him was intoxicating. Overpowering. But he didn't dare touch
    him. "Papers." 
    
    "No kidding." He gave the vampire a look. "What for?" He read them. "Lab
    tests? What for?" 
    
    "Oh..." Calhoun took another look. "Probably for your kids. The...the
    humans test hybrid children genomes. It decides where they'll be placed."
    
    "Placed?" This didn't sound good.
    
    Calhoun nodded, vigorously. "Uh huh. Like, if the baby has a demon genome
    factor over 55%, the baby is taken away. Placed in camps, or used as
    um...pets. Well, if they're Molochs. Or um...Hyena Demons. The Enthos
    are too political, they're allowed schooling. Senatorial, and all that
    shit." Calhoun pointed to a number. "But see. Your first child, he had
    a genome over 85. Almost pure Moloch, which the rest being human. The
    pregnancy would've been aborted." 
    
    Tom bit his tongue. "Aborted. Why?"
    
    "People don't...don't like demons. Pure demons are dangerous. Like Adam.
    Cannibalistic. I don't know why you were allowed to carry Adam to term.
    Noor probably pulled some strings."
    
    "Strings..." He looked at the papers again. "Andrew Vermis."
    
    "I guess he owned you before Noor."
    
    "Owned me," snorted Tom. "Vermis? Vermis...Wyrm." He blinked, rapidly
    and shuffled through the box. Medical report. 
    
    "'Child of Andrew Vermis and Moloch Thomas. Removal of child successful.
    Child's genome counts incorrect. 45% human, 10% Moloch, 35% unknown species.
    Living creature sent to Camps for study. See enclosed photographs.'"
    
    He saw the enclosed photographs and nearly fell over onto his ass. 
    
    "Adolph."
    
    ***
    
    Benton cocked his head, looking curiously at Kowalski. "Armageddon?"
    
    "Uh, yeah, Frase. Remember? You were there. Road trip to Canada. D'Hoffryn.
    Wyrm. Me, the fire vamp? Calhoun frozen solid. Aja and the cards. Tom
    havin' Nikko. Remember?" 
    
    "Ray, stop playing."
    
    "Frase?"
    
    For a long moment the two men gazed at each other, neither able to understand
    what was going on. 
    
    "Ray, Calhoun is dead. Tom is dead. Chicago was torn apart by clan wars.
    All our friends were killed, so were Lilith and Caine. We fled to Canada."
    
    "You're a Mounted Slayer, right?"
    
    "Yes," affirmed Benton.
    
    "Born and Bred?"
    
    "To what?"
    
    Kowalski hesitated. "'Kay, Fraser, tell me, what am I?"
    
    "A Gangrel."
    
    The American blinked. "You're saying I'm a vampire?"
    
    "Clearly you're not now. Are you my Ray?"
    
    "I don't know. Are you my Fraser?"
    
    ***
    
    Tom chewed on his lower lip, thinking. "Where are the camps kept?" 
    
    "All over. So people don't go breaking into them." Calhoun sat down,
    staring at the medical report with feigned interest. He looked up as
    he felt Tom's eyes burning a gaze into him. "Why?" 
    
    "Which one would Adolph be kept at?"
    
    "Hard to...hard to say. If he's experimental still, probably Regina..
    Possibly." 
    
    Tom nodded. "All right..." He stood up way too fast and knocked over
    the box. Together, the two dropped to their knees and started dumping
    the stuff back in. 
    
    It was Calhoun who found it.
    
    A letter.
    
    From Caine.
    
    It was postmarked the day of his death at Adam's hands.
    
    'Higher Grissom: If you are reading this, then the Oracle's prophecy
    has come to pass. I am dead, as is the Dark Mother. Your counterpart's
    child has come to rule, and you and at least one of your friends have
    been pulled into our sad little world. 
    
    Please believe that I never meant for any of this to happen. And believe
    that your counterpart never recalls any of his prophecies once he's had
    them. Just imagine what tragedies might have been avoided had someone
    realized he needed someone to listen. 
    
    I chose not to stop what came to pass, because I believe that your friend,
    the Ghoulite, can and will be the one who finally brings balance to our
    world. Please, help him help us. Lord Caine, 6/5/006" 
    
    Tom closed his eyes, and sighed. "Ray's here."
    
    "Kowalski? No...he's...I think he's in Canada.  I got word by another
    branch of the clan. He's living in Canada with his Slayer." 
    
    ***
    
    James paused, feeling Tom's excited mind brush his. "Slow down...I can't..."
    He closed his eyes, letting the images wash over him. Wyrm. A baby. Adolph.
    Concentration camps. The images came fast, all too fast to absorb all
    at once, but he got the basic gist of it. 
    
    He opened his eyes and looked at Turnbull. "It was Wyrm."
    
    "What?"
    
    "Wyrm did this. I thought he was destroyed!"
    
    "Such as he is not for the likes of us to kill, Jamey," Fraser said quietly.
    
    ***
    
    Adam chewed on his fingernail, licking his lips as he sat on the edge
    of what was Lieutenant Welsh's desk. Two broken skeletons were collapsed
    beside and behind him. One had been the lieutenant. The other... 
    
    The other had been the Re-animator, no longer needed in his plan. 
    
    He smiled, and jumped off the desk.
    
    And then he froze. /Daddy...?/
    
    ***
    
    Ray looked down as Grissom stirred against his leg, eyes slowly opening.
    Only a Moloch could sleep in that position so long. He sighed. "Feel
    better?" 
    
    "Adam...."
    
    "What?"
    
    "Adam knows...he knows..."
    
    Ray snorted. "He knows how to make mince people sandwiches. What else
    does he know?" 
    
    "He knows where we are...And where they are..." He squirmed uncomfortably.
    His stomach ached badly, like he'd eaten something that disagreed with
    him. "He's angry..." He coughed, not feeling well at all. 
    
    Ray averted his gaze as the Moloch lurched forward and promptly lost
    his lunch right on the floor in front of him. "Nasty. That's nasty. I'm
    /not/ cleaning that up." 
    
    Grissom clutched his stomach, falling forward on the floor. He was pale,
    and shaking hard. 
    
    Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. The Gangrel shouted for someone
    to help him, and landed on his knees beside the horrible looking Moloch.
    "You okay? What hurts?" 
    
    "Ray...Caine...Caine and I..."
    
    "Caine and you...He's like...five gazillion years old." He shook his
    head. "Caine and you. You and everybody, you mean. If you're littering,
    you can just stay right here in Pleasantville." 
    
    "Hurts...Ray...Adam /knows/..."
    
    ***
    
    Fraser looked up from the discussion with James as they heard the cry
    for help. "Ray." 
    
    They all crowded into the room, skidding to a halt as they realized what
    was happening. 
    
    "Oh, dear," breathed Fraser.
    
    ***
    
    They sat at the table in the cabin's main room, sipping tea as they tried
    to figure out what had happened. Both men were surprising themselves
    with their calmness as they went over what little information they had
    available to them. 
    
    "...and Caine took over the body of Adam?" wondered Benton. "Here, Adam
    was evil incarnate." 
    
    "Was?"
    
    "He may still be. Ray and I left Chicago. We didn't ever want to return.
    You - I mean my Ray, left on good terms with Adam. He had done the tasks
    set before him by the demon prince and by Elder Calhoun." 
    
    "Cal. God, what I'd give for him to be here right now." Kowalski sighed.
    "Frase? I'm really sorry, but I think I have to get back to Chicago.
    That's where all this started an-" 
    
    He paused. God, not now.
    
    "Ray?" Benton reached out and placed his hand on the blonde's arm. "Ray?
    What's happening?"
    
    "F-fla-flash," he gasped. He tried to stand and only succeeded in knocking
    over his tea. "H-help..." 
    
    Benton rushed over to him, seizing him gently. "What's happening? Do
    you need a doctor?" 
    
    Adam. He saw Adam. God, Virgil and Millicent and Beaula had done the
    world a favor when they destroyed that child's mind six years ago. Pure
    evil. Adolph. The first, runty, nasty version that his Fraser had fought
    in Hell. But kinder. Gentler. How Tom must've hoped he'd be. He saw Fraser
    - his or this other one? Running, clutching - Adam? No. It was Aja, he
    could tell by the clothes. A rush of vision, too fast for his mind to
    absorb yet. A howling sound that culminated in... 
    
    Cold yellowish eyes, large as lakes. Wyrm. Glaring at him.
    
    /Sum Wyrm, sub Terra./
    
    "Ray!"
    
    He never even felt his head hit the floor.
    
    ***
    
    James winced as a loud scream penetrated the air in the hospital room
    Mina and her nurses had rushed Grissom into a few minutes earlier. He
    rubbed his ear and glanced at Fraser. "Got a set of lungs on him, doesn't
    he?" 
    
    Mina gave her former Elder a look, and moved the ultrasound scanner lower.
    "There. There it is." She stared at the readouts she was getting from
    the printer. "Vampire genes. Moloch." 
    
    "Vampires can't have babies," James said weakly. He got a scoff for his
    troubles. Cecil rolled his eyes, shaking his head. 
    
    Ray gestured expansively. "We're talking about the big bad voodoo daddy
    of all vampires. He can do whatever the hell he wants. 'Sides, didn't
    you have a few young'uns by yer own cat toy?" Ray turned to Grissom.
    "Did you know?" 
    
    "Of course I knew...." Grissom panted. His face scrunched up as another
    wave of pain hit him. 
    
    "Why didn't you tell us?" Cecil sounded incredulous.
    
    "....don't know...."He doubled over in pain, feeling fingers brush his
    face. "He knew he might die. Wanted an heir...would've made Ray. Didn't
    trust him...or Calhoun...so he...ah! God!" He touched his stomach. "God,
    I hate being pregnant..." 
    
    James smirked while Fraser persisted in his questioning. "Why didn't
    he trust Ray or Calhoun?"
    
    "Calhoun had his...his own thing going on...Ray...." His eyes met the
    blonde vampire's. "Ray had betrayed him." 
    
    "Hey..." the Gangrel protested, getting defensive.  "I saw what was happening!
    I wanted to survive! I did everything I could for you and my Elder and
    Lord Caine!" 
    
    "Think I care? Saved my ass..." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Not stupid...I
    know Cecil didn't love me....but he wouldn't have let anyone hurt me...he
    wanted more children like Adam." He grunted. "Paid off the genomers so
    they wouldn't abort...like with my first, with Andrew..." 
    
    Something in his eyes told Cecil that Grissom was lying. About what,
    he wasn't sure. 
    
    Grissom stopped, and blinked rapidly. "Adam knows about the baby...He
    wants it dead. And he wants me dead." 
    
    ***
    
    He felt a wet cloth on his face and blinked his eyes open slowly. "Frase?"
    His voice was weak. Hoarse. 
    
    "Ray. Are you okay now?" Benton sounded scared. He guessed this Fraser's
    Ray didn't have flashes. At least not like this. 
    
    He nodded, head aching. "Mmm. Flash. Be okay soon..."
    
    "Oh. When my Ray has flashes he..." Benton flushed, and Kowalski grinned.
    There was the Ben he knew. "Never mind." 
    
    "I need to get to Chicago. Somethin's going down there. Somethin' big."
    
    Benton looked at him for a long moment with those big, innocent eyes,
    weighing his words against what he knew. Finally he nodded. "Alright,
    Ray. We'll leave tomorrow." 
    
    ***
    
    Tom set the box back down and finally turned to Calhoun. "You're hungry."
    
    "Mmm. I need food." Calhoun's senses were dull. If they ran into trouble,
    he'd be no use to the Higher. Tom paused, remembering how his blood had
    healed Prince Kowalski. He doubted this man had gotten enough in the
    attack. He'd struggled hard enough. Actually, in retrospect, Calhoun
    must be on the verge of collapse if Tom had fought him off so easily.
    Then again, the James Calhoun he was used to was a Sabbat with the blood
    of an Ancient. 
    
    "Ok..."
    
    "What?" Calhoun dared not believe.
    
    "Feed. But if you get carried away, I /will/ stake you."
    
    Calhoun gaped, and then stepped forward. Tom winced as fangs brushed
    the wounds made earlier, only this time gently. Then he groaned as the
    teeth sank in. The draining was not heavy this time. There was no pressure.
    Everything was fine. 
    
    Perfect even.
    
    Almost.
    
    He felt his hand slowly rise up and twine in the jetty hair. Calhoun
    trembled as Tom sensed his need. His desire. His love. 
    
    Oh, god.
    
    Calhoun loved him. This Calhoun. Loved the other Tom. Loved...loved Ray,
    too, and Lord Caine. He had fought, all but destroying himself for the
    people he held dear. 
    
    Some things never changed.
    
    ***
    
    He harbored no ill will towards his father. None at all. But the child
    his father carried, the daughter of Caine...or whomever Caine had chosen
    to sire it...now /there/ was a different tale to tell. The child was
    a threat to him. Wolochs were extremely rare and always powerful, this
    one exceptionally so. He would, in his own way, mourn the loss of his
    father once he killed him, even as he mourned the ambitious bastard Enthos
    that had sired him, or at least had tried to pretend he had. Still, his
    feelings would not stop him from slaughtering Tom Grissom and his unborn
    child when finally he found them. 
    
    But something had snatched his father away. Something mightier by far
    than anything Adam had heard tell of on the earth or beneath it. It was
    evil, one of the few things he'd ever encountered worse than himself.
    
    He needed it.
    
    Needed its help.
    
    Its power.
    
    He needed the Blind Seer back.
    
    Kowalski.
    
    ***
    
    Constable Peter Dire somehow ended up with Ray Vecchio back at his house
    amidst a crowd of Grissom and Calhoun offspring, a werewolf, a devil
    dog, a turtle in a fish tank, and a stuffed wolf named Woofy. Much to
    his surprise, no notice was taken of any of the strange elements except
    for the turtle, clearly a dark horse ingredient in the mix. 
    
    They had abandoned both his suite and Ray's apartment and the last few
    days of his vacation would be spent in this boisterous household. Ma
    greeted him as if she'd been expecting him all along and Dire was seized
    with a desire to double check and make sure he'd scrubbed behind his
    ears. He and Ray were lovingly grilled for information by the old lady,
    then Frannie arrived and they had to repeat everything. 
    
    Lord Caine then commanded their presence and both men sat on the back
    steps and related the events of the past day. Sophia and Ray Jr. romped
    in the yard with Dief and Guess. Cassie and Nikko were helping Ma and
    Frannie in the kitchen. 
    
    "...and he told Benton not to despair," echoed Aja. He had the Tarot
    deck Turnbull had sent Kowalski three years ago and he started a reading.
    "Has any mention of the Wyrm been made?" 
    
    "By them?" wondered Vecchio, one eye on the children. "No. They didn't
    seem to recognize the name." 
    
    "What say you, Son of Elizabeth?"
    
    "I say yea, so be it, amen," droned Dire.
    
    His two companions gave him an odd look.
    
    "So be what?" demanded Vecchio.
    
    "Hm? Ah, pardon. I forgot vaguespeak doesn't work on the educated and
    informed."  He cleared his throat. "My Lord Caine, why these two men?"
    
    "They are despised of the Snake."
    
    "Wasn't Kowalski the one to imprison him?"
    
    "Yea." Aja lifted a card. "Such is my son, my heir, beloved childe of
    my heart." 
    
    Dire took the card. It hadn't changed since the time in Franklin Bay.
    It still showed the vampire prince amidst flames, dressed as a fire fighter.
    
    "Bit hot that, what?" asked the Seeker.
    
    "Raymond was made by me into a fire vampire, Son of Elizabeth. He was
    going over, it was inevitable, so I granted him all the power I could."
    
    "Burned down the house," commented Vecchio. "He was too hot for Wyrm
    and D'Hoffryn to fight. He fried D'Hoffryn." 
    
    "I shall lose sleep over it."
    
    "Don't bother," smirked Ray.
    
    Aja looked up at them from the bottom step. "Seeker, Sir Vecchio, I want
    my son back. I want my father back. We must find a way to thwart Wyrm
    and set things aright." 
    
    "Where should we start?" wondered the Knight of the City.
    
    Caine gathered the cards again. "Right here." He started setting them
    down, one card at a time. 
    
    The Tower.
    
    The Sacrifice. Kowalski on a stone altar. .
    
    The Knight.
    
    The Soldier. Calhoun screaming. Which one?
    
    Death. Adolph, all white light and happiness.
    
    The Last Daughter of Eve.
    
    Aja paused at that one and looked up. "Eloise."
    
    ***
    
    Tom felt the wall meet his back and pulled Calhoun's head back. "Enough..."
    He closed his eyes, feeling Calhoun's forehead touch his. "Shit..." 
    
    "Vampires...we can live off one person for years..." Calhoun said slowly,
    relishing the feel of Tom's warm breath on his face. "Take a little at
    a time. A few drops each day, a pint a week...but you'd eventually waste
    away...it would be horrible. And wonderful." 
    
    Tom opened his eyes. Some things might not change, but this version of
    James was quite insane. It might be best not to trust him. Keep him on
    a short leash. "Would it?" His voice was weak. Quiet. 
    
    Calhoun blinked and sighed. His eyes closing. "But that would be wrong...."
    He opened his eyes, expecting an answer. "Right?" 
    
    Tom gazed at him, wide eyed, wondering at the question. Moved to pity,
    he reached out again, touching the Gangrel's fair, cold cheek. "You've
    been hurt so badly, haven't you?" 
    
    The question seemed to upset and relieve him at the same time. He managed
    to nod a bit, his eyes still closed. "I...can't remember...all the time
    I served..." 
    
    "Caine?"
    
    The pale eyes opened. Calhoun was confused, trying to deal with emotions
    he'd ignored for months and years. "Lilith. Before Caine saved me. Before
    Ray. She did this. Twisted...me. Let me remember what I was once. Now..."
    
    "Now what?"
    
    Silence.
    
    "James, now what?"
    
    "She wants me back."
    
    ***
    
    Grissom stared at the wall opposite him, concentrating on trying to get
    away from the pain residing deep in his gut. James was sitting beside
    him, reading a newspaper. Or trying to pretend to. Finally he looked
    up, glancing at Fraser, then at Grissom. 
    
    "My Tom likes being pregnant..."
    
    "Does your Tom also like to eat glass and play with matches?" Grissom
    asked, gritting his teeth, hard as he tried to ride out a wave of pain.
    
    "So what if he does?" James glared and Fraser moved to intercede. "You
    said you'd had an aborted pregnancy." 
    
    "Uh huh."
    
    "Why? Was there a problem with the child?"
    
    "Mm. Too demon."
    
    Fraser tilted his head. "You had your child aborted because it was too
    demon." 
    
    "No. Andrew had my pregnancy aborted because the child was too demon.
    It's against the law to carry and give birth to a child with a demon
    genome over 85%..." He lay back on the bed, pain abetted for now. "There
    were complications. I was almost full term. Almost died. I don't really
    remember much about it. Woke up, and had a new owner..." 
    
    "Andrew." The major rubbed his chin. They didn't know anyone named Andrew.
    "Andrew who?" 
    
    "Andrew Vermis." Grissom's voice was getting weaker. Farther away. Fraser
    jumped up and went to the Moloch's side. "I feel funny." 
    
    "Go get Mina," Fraser ordered Cecil. As the Enthos ran out, he looked
    at James with an eyebrow raised. 
    
    "Vermis," muttered the Sabbat. "That's not too Germanic, now, is it?"
    
    "Indeed. Wyrm."
    
    ***
    
    Adam picked up the phone by the reanimator's lab desk, and dialed. Slowly.
    As the phone began to ring, he smiled, showing pointed, razor-sharp teeth.
    
    "Raymond Kowalski..." he purred into the phone, as the Blind Seer finally
    deigned to answer. "I'm afraid I require your...assistance..." 
    
    ***
    
    Ray swallowed, trying to hide his horror. Adam. The little demon boy
    had somehow tracked him down to God-knows-where, Canada. He looked at
    Benton, mouthing the name, and the Mountie's eyes grew wide with unaccustomed
    fear. 
    
    "Yo, Adam, how goes? What's up?" he managed casually.
    
    "Ray, I know you're in Canada, but I find myself in need of your abilities
    as a Seer. I need information on a power that has...changed our world."
    
    "What's that, then?"
    
    "I don't know," said the little boy. "But I think you might."
    
    "Hey, I am the terror of Trivial Pursuit."
    
    "I thought that was your paramour. Be that as it may, Ray, what being
    in this world would have the power to reach across dimensions?" 
    
    Kowalski couldn't keep the tone of his voice even. "In this world...or
    on it, Adam?" 
    
    "In it, I believe," said the boy eagerly. "Ray? Ray?"
    
    "Why?"
    
    "My father, Tom Grissom, lives yet, but not on this plane. He has, I
    believe, been transported to another world that is an imperfect reflection
    of this. I wish to rescue him, for if he is alive I have a need for his
    wisdom and his warmth." 
    
    Kowalski bit his lip. /Rescue my ass/, he thought. "D'Hoffryn can," he
    finally said.  "The Primal Higher." He smiled happily. If Wyrm was the
    same creature on both versions of Chicago, it would stand to reason that
    D'Hoffryn was dead here as well. He suppressed a smirk. "Invoke him.
    Ask him. Can't help you there, though. And lemme know what happens, okay?"
    
    ***
    
    "She's alive?" Tom whispered, closing his eyes as Calhoun pulled closer
    to him, burying his face in the Moloch's shoulder. The vampire was trembling,
    fighting for control of his own body and mind. 
    
    "Her mind. Not her body. She wants mine." His voice was muffled as he
    spoke, though Tom could sense Calhoun's relief that someone, anyone,
    was listening to and understanding him. 
    
    Quickly Tom thought and came up with nothing. His James would know what
    to do, he was sure of that. Gently, he brushed his fingers against the
    Gangrel's face and concentrated. 
    
    ***
    
    James blinked rapidly against the assault of images that filled his mind.
    He felt Fraser grab him around the shoulders and escort him to a seat.
    
    "Jamey?" asked the Canadian softly.
    
    The Sabbat tried to focus his eyes. "Tom...what..."
    
    He could see his own life, almost. His counterpart's. It was almost the
    same, up until World War I. When he was approached by Lilith. When he
    became her second. He shivered. Years of insanity after that. Murder
    and mayhem with the queen bitch of the universe. A slave to her whims.
    
    He saw Caine rescuing him. Love for the man who would risk so much to
    rescue an agent of his enemy. Love for Ray. For...for his counterpart's
    Tom. A love that was not returned. He'd done it all for that Tom. The
    entire clan war. For nothing. 
    
    He shivered again. He could see nearly getting killed by Warfield. Spending
    months in the wilds. He remembered that sensation. Alone and lonely in
    the mud and the dirt. Moving, when it got too cold, to the cemeteries.
    An osarie. A moment's elation at finding Tom, his Tom, inside one of
    the sealed coffins. Tom hadn't said anything about that. Maybe he didn't
    remember. He prayed Tom didn't remember. 
    
    /James/
    
    He sounded so calm and reasonable when compared to the other Tom, the
    Moloch pet. There was no comparing the two and his heart and mind cried
    out for the one he loved. 
    
    /Tom/
    
    /I don't know what to do. Lilith wants him. Can I stop her?/
    
    James thought, trying to remember the rules that his Lilith lived by.
    /Yeah. Your Primal Higher status. You can use that against her./ 
    
    /How?/
    
    /Claim him./
    
    /What? How?/
    
    /You know how. Make him yours./
    
    /I love you./
    
    /I know. Hurry back to me, okay?/
    
    ***
    
    Tom blinked rapidly at the wall opposite him and twined his fingers through
    the Gangrel's hair again. "James. Look at me." 
    
    Slowly the head lifted and insane, muddled eyes met his.
    
    "Do you swear allegiance to the Primal Higher and all that he stands
    for, all that he lives for?" 
    
    Calhoun nodded, slowly. "Yes." He shuddered as he felt fingers brush
    his inner mind. "What..." 
    
    "You'll belong to the Primal Higher until such time as he no longer requires
    your services." 
    
    "Yes." Another shiver and his head tilted back. "God..."
    
    "No. Not God." He kissed Calhoun gently, letting his razor sharp fangs
    slip out. /This better work, James, or I am going to be /so/ pissed off./
    
    ***
    
    Adam lit the third candle, and let the tiny drops of blood hit the flames.
    He wasn't sure he remembered how to do this. Ah well. Practice makes
    perfect. Invoke D'Hoffryn. Kowalski was brilliant. He'd underestimated
    the detective. Really, he never should have let him leave. 
    
    ***
    
    "You guys don't have to come, ya know."
    
    Benton quietly packed the last of their supplies into the Jeep. "I know.
    We know. But if it will help to set things aright, we want to be there."
    
    Kowalski crouched and ruffled Diefenbaker's fur. "Y'know, my Dief is
    almost always a werekid. Cute little kiddo, too." 
    
    The Canadian paused, trying to keep his emotions under control. "Ray?"
    
    "Yeah, Ben?"
    
    He hesitated. "I...I don't want to seem rude, and I hope you'll forgive
    my selfishness, but..." 
    
    Kowalski looked up at the Mountie. So alike. "Go ahead, Ben. I don't
    wanna be here either. This isn't my world, yer not my Ben, though yer
    darned close. Right now, we're stuck with each other." 
    
    "I hope you'll forgive me if I hold you at arm's length," stammered Benton.
    "Ray was the initiator in our relationship. He's always taken the lead
    in such things." 
    
    Kowalski grinned. "Don' worry, Ben. I won' be comin' on to ya or nothing.
    Like I said, yer close, but not MY Benton Fraser." 
    
    The Mountie, even more innocent than his own beloved Fraser, blushed
    scarlet and nodded, clearly relieved. 
    
    "Let's hit the road, Benton-buddy."
    
    ***
    
    "Jamey?"
    
    As Fraser watched, the Sabbat gave himself a shake and came back to the
    here-and-now. 
    
    "What? Fraser - what?"
    
    The Mountie smiled slightly. It was a rare event to see James Calhoun
    caught in a moment of weakness. With a low groan James rubbed his head,
    running his hands through the ridiculous punk haircut Tom had given him
    out of spite. 
    
    "The other...me. You thought I was a messed up bastard? I'm an amateur
    by comparison. Lilith is trying for a hostile takeover. He's doing his
    best to fight it. Tom just claimed him." 
    
    "Claimed?"
    
    "The demon equivalent of swearing fealty. Like what I did with Lord Caine
    and Prince Kowalski. They're linked, like I am to Tom or Ray." He sighed.
    "I hope it works." 
    
    "Lilith is alive there?"
    
    "Her mind, at least."
    
    Fraser shuddered. James nodded in sympathy, knowing what he was thinking.
    /Been there, done that, Benton./ 
    
    "At least she's not here," commented Fraser.
    
    The vampire's voice had no inflection. "Sometimes I wonder."
    
    The Moloch looked at him and smiled. For some reason that smile bothered
    the hell out of James Calhoun. 
    
    "Planning on having that baby anytime soon?" he snapped. This Tom was...weird.
    A being of pure neediness and desire. 
    
    "Jamey!" Before Fraser could admonish the vampire further, Mina entered.
    She was frowning, and glanced at the alternate Ray. 
    
    "What?"
    
    "The tests on the child's genome count came back. We also took the liberty
    of running a DNA test." 
    
    "Why?" Ray asked. "You know the baby's Caine's." The look on her face
    was disturbing, to say the least. "Right?" 
    
    "That's the thing. The DNA doesn't match Caine's in any manner." Mina
    stepped forward, keeping eye contact with the Gangrel. "It matches yours."
    
    Ray just stared. Hell, they all did.
    
    "What?" the vampire finally breathed. "I never!" He whirled on Tom, his
    blue eyes full of confusion and betrayal. "What the hell did you do,
    you fucker?" 
    
    "You always wanted a child," whispered Tom. Afraid again. "I was ordered
    to do it. I'm sorry, I couldn't let you remember that night. James would
    have killed you for being with me. But it was wonderful, Ray. Beautiful.
    Perfect." 
    
    Ray stood there, open-mouthed and in shock. He tried to speak, tried
    to force his mouth to form words but failed. Trembling, he turned away
    from the Moloch and reached for Fraser. It didn't matter that this wasn't
    the one he loved. It was Fraser, and Fraser meant safety and sanctuary.
    
    "F-F-Fra-ss-s-"
    
    The Mountie took his hand, yanking him into a tight embrace. He glared
    at Grissom over the blonde's head, gently rubbing his back and shoulders
    as he guided the Gangrel away from the room. 
    
    "Come along, Ray. Shh. Stay with me. I have you. It will be alright.
    Shh." 
    
    James bared his fangs as he regarded the man on the bed, amazed that
    he could ever hate Tom Grissom. "You fucking bastard," he hissed, then
    followed them out of the room. 
    
    ***
    
    Tom was just pulling away from Calhoun when it happened. He could feel
    a distinct pulling on his chest. Like someone had just grabbed him and
    yanked Hard. He stared at his hands and saw them fading. Oh God. What...no.
    
    "Find Ray," he ordered the Gangrel, before finally fading out of the
    osari. 
    
    ***
    
    Adam blew out the candle, and looked up. He expected to see the familiar,
    blue-horned demon in front of him. He expected allegiance. 
    
    He did not expect his father.
    
    Tom stared at the little boy before him. "Adam?"
    
    "You lived," he commented coldly. His dark eyes narrowed. "What are you?"
    
    "I'm your father."
    
    "No. My father was a Moloch. You have more human in you than he did.
    Again, I ask you, what are you?" 
    
    "Aja?" wondered Tom, frowning.
    
    "Who would that be?"
    
    "You."
    
    "Not I. I evoked the Primal Higher, D'Hoffryn. Why did I get you?" 
    
    Tom shook his head, trying to figure this situation out. This, then,
    was Adam, the demon child that had masterminded the downfall of Caine
    and the clans in Chicago. Pure evil. 
    
    The little boy reached out and touched Tom's belly. "You are not carrying
    a child. My own father carries a child, one whom I must destroy." 
    
    "Why?" demanded Tom.
    
    "She is a threat to my power. Now again, I ask you, why did I get you
    and not the Primal Higher?" 
    
    "Maybe the spell was wrong," suggested Tom, remembering the box of fortune
    cookies. 
    
    Adam considered, looking rather suspicious. "Perhaps..."
    
    "I could help." Tom smiled, hoping he looked more helpful than he felt.
    
    Adam raised an eyebrow. "Could you?"
    
    "You would need your brother."
    
    "My brother?"
    
    "Yes." He picked up the candle. "Your blood won't be enough." He paused.
    "Why do you wish to invoke the Higher?" 
    
    Adam pondered how much to tell. No matter. If it got out of hand he could
    always kill this...thing. "I wish to go to my father." 
    
    "Why?"
    
    "He's a threat. As is the child he carries."
    
    A threat? This version of himself didn't even appear to be able to defend
    himself. "A threat how?" 
    
    "He's like myself. He'll do what he can to get what he wants. Even act
    the part of a weaker being." 
    
    "Which he isn't?" Tom kneeled down, getting face to face with the child.
    God, is this what his child would've become if not for Caine? 
    
    "Hardly. He was lover to Vermis before he was lover to Caine..." Like
    his father, he was lying. His father hadn't /quite/ been a willing participant
    in either relationship. But how could he have possibly fought Vermis?
    
    Tom swallowed. James. Fraser. The others. They were in danger. They had
    to be warned. "I'll have to prepare. If you can bring me your brother,
    I can help you with the Higher. We have a...personal relationship." 
    
    "Like my father and Vermis?"
    
    "Sure. Fine."
    
    Adam nodded, and started off. "It shall be done."
    
    ***
    
    James watched Fraser try to calm Ray down, and sipped a bit of blood
    out of a mug one of the nurses had handed him. He couldn't believe the
    Moloch had done this. It was little better than what had been done to
    his Tom. Son of a bitch. This Tom had raped Ray. The last person on the
    planet that deserved such treatment. 
    
    He felt a brush against his mind, and closed his eyes, longing for the
    serenity that was his lover. 
    
    /James.../
    
    /Kinky, you wouldn't believe the shit going down here./
    
    /Wanna bet? Listen, you need to get them away from my counterpart. Now./
    
    James smirked. /Really? Other than being a complete jackass, what's he
    done?/ 
    
    There was silence. Oh God. He hated silence. Silence with Tom usually
    meant bad things. He opened his eyes and looked at Fraser. Still occupied.
    Thank God. 
    
    /Tom?/
    
    /He belongs to someone called Vermis./
    
    /Right. Andrew Vermis, yeah? He owned him./
    
    /I think Vermis is Wyrm./
    
    /Shit./
    
    ***
    
    The Moloch shook his head as he felt the tendrils of Vermis around his
    mind. "No. I don't..." He touched his temples, suppressing a sob. "Not
    yours...not...yours..." He fell against the hospital bed, fevered. He
    felt horrible. He hated lying. Hated being hated. It should be Caine
    they hated. But he couldn't break his vow. Wouldn't.
    
    Andrew was angry. He was very angry. Across dimensions, he could feel
    the displeasure of his former master. 
    
    "No. Please...please..." He clutched the sheets underneath him and groaned.
    A cool, leathery hand touched his forehead. Cecil? 
    
    The demon stared down at him. He looked angry. Very angry. Not him, too.
    "Cec..." 
    
    "Don't talk to me." Cecil glared. "I'll help you, but don't talk to me.
    I have nothing to say to you." 
    
    "You can...forgive James for everything he's done...." Tom tossed his
    head on the pillow. God, what was being done to him. "But you can't forgive
    me of this?" 
    
    "No, I can't."
    
    ***
    
    Ray choked back a dry sob, his hands shaking. "I hate him. That son of
    a bitch." He didn't /want/ Tom's baby. He didn't want anything except
    Benton. He supposed in some weird, Molochy way Grissom really was trying
    to pay him back. Trying to make him happy. He should have said something.
    
    Calhoun wouldn't have killed him for sleeping with Grissom. He knew that
    much. Maybe Grissom didn't. Calhoun's obsession with the Moloch was a
    new thing and Grissom's pregnancy was almost full term. God, he was a
    vampire! How had he fathered anything? 
    
    He was shivering, actually cold, and he was grateful for the strong arms
    and rough red fabric that enfolded him. Ray let Fraser hold him tight,
    glad that this version of Benton knew to stroke his hair, his back. The
    soothing sounds were the same, the wordless lullaby whispered close to
    his ear. He hugged the Mounted Slayer tighter, trying to find the words
    to thank him for helping, for being there to give him what he so desperately
    needed even if he wasn't the Ray Kowalski that Fraser loved. The love
    was still there, at least, and Fraser was as selfless as ever. 
    
    He looked up as James tapped his shoulder. "We have to get out of here.
    Now." 
    
    "What...what about the baby?" he managed. He wanted to see it. He wanted
    to see why Tom had done this to him. He had to. 
    
    The Sabbat shook his head. "We're all in danger here. We have to get
    as far from... " 
    
    They all looked up as a long, piercing shriek filled the corridor. 
    
    "That sounded bad," commented Fraser, still holding Ray.
    
    "Shit!" hissed James. "Cecil!"
    
    He ran back into Tom's room and skidded to a halt.
    
    He recognized that stench.
    
    Wyrm. Or a wyrm. They all smelled too terrible for words.
    
    "Get the hell out of here!" ordered the Sabbat. Cecil Noor hesitated
    but James Calhoun did not. He dashed into the room and seized the Enthos
    demon that was pregnant with Nikko's twin and ran out even faster. 
    
    "That's /my/ kid you're carrying," he reminded sternly, putting Cecil
    down next to Fraser. 
    
    "Elder, what's happening?" demanded Ray.
    
    "Vermis and Tom are having a little chat, it seems. That, or Adolph is
    alive again 'cause it reeks of Wyrm in that room." 
    
    ***
    
    /Mine. She shall be mine, Moloch./
    
    "No," pleaded Grissom. "I gave you a child already..." His son. Adolph.
    Despite all Vermis' attempts, the child was not evil. He thanked God
    for that every time he was allowed to see the child. 
    
    /You gave me a useless whelp. She shall be mine./
    
    "She's Ray's child! Caine's heir!"
    
    /She will be mine/
    
    "No...No, it's not fair! She's my daughter! She's Ray's!"
    
    /Mine, Moloch. Bring her forth that I may gaze upon her./
    
    "No..." He closed his eyes, seeing the dark yellow embers that were Vermis'
    eyes. His lover's eyes. Oh God. What had become of him? 
    
    ***
    
    "Shit!" hissed James. He glared at a few of the hospital staff to keep
    away from the room. A tough job, but someone had to do it. "We've got
    to stop this." 
    
    "Cecil," Fraser breathed. He turned to the trembling Enthos demon. "When
    Tom was delivering Adam the first time, you used the incorrect spell
    and shocked Tom out of labor. Can you do it again?" 
    
    "No!" snapped James, whirling on the Enthos. "Not /can/ you do it. You
    do it again right now, Noor!" 
    
    Cecil hesitated, far too long for James' eyes. He grabbed the Enthos
    and turned him towards the room, bracing him firmly with both hands on
    the demon's arms. 
    
    "Stay with me, James," whispered Cecil.
    
    "Right behind you two," promised the Sabbat, not about to let anything
    happen to his daughter. Vermis could have this Tom for lunch as far as
    he was concerned - nothing was going to harm Cecil as long as he carried
    his child. 
    
    Slowly, Cecil made his way towards the bed, chanting the spell until
    he was a foot away. 
    
    With what happened last time, he didn't want to be anywhere near Grissom
    when he finished this. 
    
    ***
    
    The stirring in Grissom's gut slowed but the pain didn't stop. He opened
    his eyes and shook his head. "No. No..." 
    
    As the bed began to rumble, shaking along with the floor. Along with
    the building, he heard shouts of terror and fear. Felt arms grab him
    off the bed and run. 
    
    Things began to fall, from shelves, off walls. He grunted as something
    hit him in the head. 
    
    And then everything went black.
    
    ***
    
    Tom looked up as Adam re-entered the dark chamber. He smiled at the bastard
    child and sat up straight. "Well?" 
    
    Adam frowned at the impertinence. "He'll be here in four hours. Is that
    satisfactory?"
    
    "Sure."
    
    "Wonderful," he sneered. As if he cared.
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun picked up the pay phone and dumped a handful of change in the
    slot. Pausing momentarily, he dialed a number he knew by heart. 
    
    He hoped it was the same.
    
    ***
    
    On the plane to the States, Ray opened his eyes as his cell phone rang.
    He hated flying. Still made him queasy. "Yo." He wondered if he looked
    as green as he felt. 
    
    "R...Ray?" Calhoun. This world's Calhoun. He sounded terrible. What on
    Earth... 
    
    "Cal?"
    
    "The...the other Tom told me to contact you. He said you'd know why."
    
    "Tom's here. Shit..." He closed his eyes. "You're in Chicago."
    
    "Yes...why..."
    
    Ray held the bridge of his nose and battled the pending headache lingering
    just beneath the surface. He knew Fraser was watching him. 
    
    "I can't talk here. Where can we meet? Is there anywhere safe?"
    
    "Are you alone?"
    
    God, what had happened to the vampire here? He sounded so fragile. Like
    he might snap. Like when he'd been turned a ghoulite and was dying. 
    
    "No. I got Frase and Dief with me."
    
    "The Canadian Consulate. Don't go into Thatcher's office if you're anything
    like the Ray Kowalski I knew." 
    
    "Thanks fer the warnin', Cal. We'll be there before midnight."
    
    "Ray?"
    
    He'd been about to hang up. "Yeah?"
    
    "Tom said you're a prince in your world. I'm glad."
    
    He huffed a small laugh. "It has its moments, Cal. See ya later." 
    
    ***
    
    "We've got to get him out of here," stated Fraser, touching Grissom's
    face. The Moloch was no longer in labor, though from the looks of that
    head injury, he'd be unconscious for quite a while. "This Andrew Vermis
    is angry. Who knows what he might do and we can't risk the other patients."
    
    James looked at Cecil assessingly. "Want twins again?"
    
    "NO!"
    
    He grinned wickedly, knowing he shouldn't get so much pleasure out of
    baiting the mild little demon. Tom - his Tom, the one worth having -
    would smack him for this. 
    
    "What kinda spell was that?" demanded Ray.
    
    "Resurrection," growled Cecil.
    
    "So, like, something, somewhere just came back from the dead?"
    
    Cecil swallowed, nodding. "Most likely."
    
    "What?"
    
    "I don't know. It could be anything."
    
    James sighed. "Where can we go that Vermis can't get to him at?"
    
    Fraser thought momentarily. "Hell."
    
    "You're joking."
    
    "It's Tom's place. He's the Higher of the Primals, the other Highers
    would see it as his sanctuary. Wyrm would not be able to enter unbidden."
    Fraser frowned. "We should bring Mina with us." 
    
    "You think something's wrong?" Cecil asked, looking down at the Moloch
    disgustedly. 
    
    "I'm not sure."
    
    ***
    
    He woke up in darkness. Coldness. Cool hands were on his forehead, smoothing
    something. A bandage? He opened his eyes, slowly. The world was blurred,
    and everything ached. 
    
    "Tom Cat," Ray frowned down at him. He was still angry, but he wouldn't
    abandon the guy, had never abandoned anything in his life, especially
    not something that was little better than a helpless animal in his eyes.
    He wondered if Grissom even realized what he'd done. 
    
    "Ray..." Grissom's voice was weak. Slurred. Maybe he'd been hurt worse
    than they'd thought. "Sorry...so sorry..." 
    
    "Right," Ray smirked. "Everyone's always sorry when they do things like
    this to ya. I don't buy it, Tom Cat. Yer not the least bit sorry." 
    
    Tom's eyes closed, then reopened. "Ever...been loved, Ray...?"
    
    Ray smiled at the question, thinking about his Benton. "Yeah..."
    
    "I haven't...not in a while...."
    
    "Right," Ray shook his head. "What about yer kids?"
    
    "Adam...trying to kill me....Cassie...she hated everyone..." He closed
    his eyes again. "My parents sold me for money and food." He smiled weakly.
    "Got back at them for that..." 
    
    "Tom..." Ray suddenly felt very cold. Colder than he had in years. 
    
    "Mmm?"
    
    "Tom, how did your parents die?" Please no. If Tom hadn't, he could forgive
    him. He could forgive anyone anything. But not murder.... 
    
    Grissom groaned, rolling onto his side. "Car wreck..."
    
    "Then how did you..."
    
    "Cecil...he helped me start a lawsuit..." He groaned. "Your friend's
    spell didn't work long, did it?" 
    
    "It hurts?" He looked to the door, nodding for Mina and Fraser to come
    in. James followed, as well as Rupert. They weren't taking any chances
    anymore. 
    
    "Understatement of the century...Ray..."
    
    "Yeah?"
    
    "I really am sorry...I wouldn't have done it if...Caine hadn't insisted..."
    
    "Caine." Ray's tone was emotionless.
    
    Fraser looked up as Mina took his hand, putting it on the Moloch's back.
    "Rub. It'll help with the pain. I can't give him any drugs here, not
    without the monitors.  I can't risk it with the baby." He nodded at her
    order and complied. 
    
    "Oh...God..." Grissom bit his lower lip as pain twisted in his stomach,
    hard and tight and wrenching. His voice came in pained gasps. "Caine
    wanted an heir. But he couldn't. Too ancient. All dried up. And he didn't
    want Calhoun's, the guy was seriously losing it." 
    
    "So...me?" Ray squeaked out.
    
    "You." The Moloch grabbed Ray's hand for an anchor. "And she is...so
    powerful, Ray..." 
    
    "She is?" Intrigued, he let Grissom place his hand on his stomach. 
    
    He could feel her.
    
    No wonder Vermis was so angry.
    
    ***
    
    Tom looked down as the restrained Wyrm child was wheeled into the chamber.
    This was Adolph, Adolph as he should have been. He looked the same as
    the first tiny, winged demon they had encountered in Hell, but somehow
    he was beautiful. The light in his eyes... 
    
    This child had not been broken, no matter what had been done to him.
    He could feel the kindness roll off the child and knelt down, smiling.
    "Adolph?" 
    
    "Daddy...?" Adolph peered at the man then shook his head. "No. You're
    not daddy...my daddy's sad...He hurts all the time. Inside. I wish he
    could be more like you." 
    
    "I'll bet." Tom slowly undid the restraints, glad that Adam was still
    off doing whatever. "You want to help your daddy stop hurting?" 
    
    Adolph nodded eagerly. He could. He knew he could. If someone ever let
    him. "Please..." 
    
    "Then you have to do everything I say."
    
    ***
    
    The consulate was boarded up, but they broke a few of the boards and
    kicked in a window and made their way into the dusty hall. Kowalski and
    Benton both carried flashlights and they swept the foyer with light.
    There was no sign of anyone else having been in here in ages. 
    
    "Cal?" called Kowalski nervously. "Calhoun?"
    
    Benton was clearly anxious, especially when no answer came. Kowalski
    tried to smile reassuringly at the Mountie. "We'll do a building clearing,
    starting on this floor. He said not to go inta Thatcher's office." 
    
    "He killed Turnbull in there."
    
    "Great. 'Kay. Let's-"
    
    "Ray."
    
    "Huh?"
    
    Benton pointed. The detective turned.
    
    Calhoun emerged from the shadows of the stairs. Unable to stop himself,
    Kowalski stared.
    
    This was the man who had attacked him in Fortitude Pass, the crazed slave
    of a mad queen. This was the Gangrel, not the Sabbat. His hair was longer
    - no pissed off Grissom with a buzz-cutter in this universe - and the
    contentment that Kowalski had grown so used to in those pale eyes was
    gone. Vanished. Only the pain remained. 
    
    He looked at the Caanite with wonder and relief. "Prince Kowalski." 
    
    Kowalski smiled and gave in to his first impulse.
    
    He walked over and hugged Calhoun.
    
    He felt the vampire stiffen initially, then slowly raise his arms to
    return the embrace. 
    
    "You okay?" whispered the ghoulite.
    
    Calhoun looked at him closely, drawing back to study the red-haired American.
    So different yet so similar to the Ray Kowalski he had known. Slowly,
    he nodded. 
    
    "I think I will be."
    
    Kowalski smiled. "Good. What's shakin' here in the Windy City?"
    
    Calhoun frowned. "You don't know. He said you'd know what to do." 
    
    "What else did he say? Anything?"
    
    It took Calhoun minutes to recollect. "He told me that he wouldn't let
    Lilith take me. He claimed me. Made me his. I don't really understand...."
    
    "Lilith? She survived the clan wars?"
    
    He heard Benton moving some refuse off the bench in the hall and Ray
    switched off his flash light as he drew Calhoun to the seat. 
    
    "She's alive," whispered the vampire, looking pained. "She's trying to
    take me over. Her body is gone, only her mind remains and she wants me
    for her vessel." 
    
    Kowalski nodded, thinking, remembering when his Fraser had been possessed.
    "Cal, what about Caine? Is he dead?" 
    
    "Yes."
    
    "What else?" That bothered the prince, but he could deal with it later.
    He also needed to tackle whatever it was Tom had done. "Anything about
    Adam?" 
    
    "Adam called him! Took him away! He...he vanished, went away..."
    
    He brightened. "Good! Greatness! Then Adam must be feeling pretty stu-"
    
    They stopped as the phone in the Consulate rang. It was dusty, covered
    in cobwebs. It looked like it hadn't been used in ages. Kowalski looked
    at Benton, who shook his head.  Slowly, Kowalski made his way to it.
    He felt apprehensive about even touching it.
    
    "Hello?" he whispered as he lifted it to his ear.
    
    "Ray." Tom. He sounded happy. "Glad to hear your voice. Guess what?"
    
    Kowalski grinned, sitting in the leather chair. "What?"
    
    "I think we died and went to hell." He could hear the forced tone in
    Tom's voice. Shit.
    
    "You okay?"
    
    "Could be better. Got someone here who wants to talk to you."
    
    ***
    
    Tom handed the phone over to the brat beside him. Adolph had been restrained
    again, but was working quickly to free himself. He sat down, guarded
    by the two Ubel demons who were Adam's guard. 
    
    "Ray! Good to hear from you again. Whichever Ray you are," sneered the
    boy. "Perhaps you could shed some light on how this thing came to be
    in my chamber." Adam sneered at the man who looked so much like his father.
    "Come to me." 
    
    "Or what?"
    
    "Or I'll eat him. Alive."
    
    ***
    
    "'Kay," said Kowalski. "I kin do that. Where ya holed up?"
    
    "The 27th. Bring the Slayer."
    
    "We're leavin' now."
    
    He hung up the phone. "Shit. Adam's gonna eat Grissom alive if we don't
    get over there now. Cal, I don' want Adam figuring out yer alive...you
    know. Not dead dead. Got any of yer clan left?" 
    
    "No," Calhoun said softly. "They all perished."
    
    "We need ta move."
    
    Calhoun cocked his head. "I have the Hoard."
    
    "Huh?"
    
    "The animals. The rats. They obey me. I'm a Gangrel Elder."
    
    Benton sighed, glad they weren't helpless. "They can get anywhere in
    the city." 
    
    "Find somewhere safe, then tell yer pals to keep an eye out. We'll hook
    up later. Stay out of Adam's sight, Jamey, I dunno what he'll do if he
    finds ya." 
    
    ***
    
    Von growled at himself, stalking through the cemetery. His Elder had
    sent him out here to find something dead wandering through the place.
    Wanted to make sure that it hadn't been anything too big. He growled
    again. 
    
    Then widened his eyes at the sight before him. He picked up his cell
    phone and dialed. "Elder. We may have a problem." 
    
    "What?" demanded James. His voice echoed. "You found someone?"
    
    "You could say that."
    
    "Who?"
    
    Von sighed then stepped behind a monument. "Let's just say he's big,
    he's blue and he looks pretty fucking pissed off." 
    
    ***
    
    Cecil supported the Moloch with an arm behind his back. "Breathe. Just
    breathe. Deep breaths," He urged, feeling Grissom try to comply. The
    cat demon was in agony. Any fool could see that. 
    
    "Can't. I can't..." Grissom groaned as his gut wrenched again. He could
    feel the unmistakable pull of a drawing spell and almost sobbed with
    relief. "Hurry...please..."
    
    Cecil stared down at him, feeling a swell of pity. "You're okay. You're
    going to be fine."
    
    He was not prepared for the screaming.
    
    ***
    
    Fraser stared down at Grissom, shocked. The differences between their
    Tom and this one were astounding. While their Tom lit up like a Christmas
    tree whenever he even heard the word pregnant, this one seemed rather
    depressed about the whole thing. He wouldn't even hold the child. 
    
    He looked exhausted. Wiped out, as Ray would say. Mina was busily working
    to stabilize him, while also checking on the baby in Kowalski's arms.
    
    Unlike Grissom, Ray had come to life the minute the baby was finally
    there. She was a good child. Quiet, like Sophia, except she looked a
    hell of a lot like Ray.  The fine hair had a reddish tint to it and all
    the correct numbers of fingers and toes were in place. Ray was completely
    won over at the first sight of the baby, just as Fraser knew he would
    be. 
    
    Grissom stirred as Fraser pulled the blankets tighter around him. "...death..."
    he muttered at Fraser, before letting his eyes droop.
    
    "What?" Fraser whispered back, concerned.
    
    "She's death," the Moloch whispered again, letting his eyes close. 
    
    Fraser frowned, instinctively brushing Grissom's hair back. The heat
    radiating off the Moloch was astounding. "Mina." 
    
    "I know. I felt it too."
    
    "Vermis?"
    
    "It would stand to reason."
    
    Ray looked up from coddling his daughter. "What about Vermis?"
    
    "He's done something to Tom," said Fraser.
    
    "What?"
    
    "I'm not sure. He's running a high fever."
    
    Rushing footsteps, and James came barreling into the room, Turnbull right
    on his heels. 
    
    "Gentlemen, we have a problem."
    
    "Another one?" Ray looked up. "What?"
    
    "D'Hoffryn."
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun sat in the old throne room, surrounded by rats and squirrels.
    As they scampered out of the hovel, intent on their instructions, he
    looked up. A voice echoed in his head. A man he thought long lost. 
    
    /James...Elder.../
    
    Caine. No. Not possible. Caine was dead.
    
    But so was Lilith.
    
    No.
    
    /James.../
    
    "No!" He stood up, covering his ears. /Tom...Tom, help me...please.../
    
    ***
    
    Ray stood watch over Grissom, cradling his child...their child. The others
    were off discussion this D'Hoffryn geek. Whoever he was. He brushed Grissom's
    hair back, wincing at the heat radiating from the Moloch's body. 
    
    Balancing his daughter, he reached for the cloth in the bowl of ice water
    beside the bed and wrung it out one-handed, then wiped Grissom's face.
    There was no use staying pissed off at the Moloch for doing what he'd
    done. Like Ray, he had wanted to survive. Besides, the results were...wonderful.
    "There's nothing you can do?" he asked quietly and looked at Mina. 
    
    "Nothing," Mina gnawed on her lower lip, starting to say something else
    when her patient started awake. He looked disoriented. 
    
    "Alex...?" His voice was hoarse, his eyes bleary and unfocused. His gaze
    fell on Ray. "Ray..." 
    
    "Hey. Feel any better?" Ray asked lightly.
    
    Grissom nodded weakly at the baby. "...name her?"
    
    "Livia." He tilted his head. "Tom, what can we do? Do you know what he's
    doing to you?"
    
    Grisom coughed, and coughed hard. "Sorry...for 'everything...could've...could've
    loved..." His eyes closed again slowly and in moments he was back in
    that feverish dream state. 
    
    Mina looked towards the door, at Aja watching them. "Lord Caine. Something
    must be done. I can't help him..." 
    
    He nodded. "Contact the Daughter."
    
    ***
    
    Adam tightened the restraints on the man who so resembled his father,
    and licked his teeth, smiling. "You'll make quite a powerful meal," he
    said, then turned to his brother. "You...you're barely an appetizer."
    
    "I'd hold off on your snacking at the moment, kiddo." Kowalski entered
    the room, glaring at his father's double angrily. Benton and Dief were
    at his heels. "Jesus, Tom. Your counterpart must be more lax on the punishments
    than you are." 
    
    Tom grinned weakly. "I suppose so."
    
    "You okay?"
    
    "For now."
    
    Adam glared right back at Kowalski, then stepped forward. "You're going
    to help me get over there. Is that clear?"
    
    "What's in it for us?"
    
    "I may let you live."
    
    "May?" echoed the prince. He wasn't sure what type of stance to take
    with this little hooligan, but backing down was not an option. "Not good
    enough, Adam. I helped ya in the past, I helped put you in power, you
    owe me." 
    
    "Not you, ghoulite."
    
    "The other me. Same deal, pal. You owe Ray Kowalski. I'm just collecting
    fer him." 
    
    "What do you want, then?" demanded Adam, unable to deny the truth of
    Ray's words and fully aware that he needed this man. 
    
    "I'll let you know. One thing I can tell ya, kid, after this is over,
    I don' ever want ya contacting me again. Got it?" 
    
    Adam smirked. "Indeed."
    
    "'Kay. First things first - no threatening the hired help."
    
    "Done."
    
    "Or eatin' them."
    
    The demon child laughed. "Done."
    
    "Now bring us up to date. And quit eyein' the Mountie's neck."
    
    ***
    
    Eloise hovered over the Moloch, staring at him quietly. She touched his
    face with her cool, gentle hands. "Hmm..." 
    
    Completely charmed by her accent and her grace, Ray stared at her, noticing
    the use of a Fraserism. "What?" 
    
    She smiled, beautiful to see, and reached into the air and made a gesture.
    Then she touched the side of Grissom's face and whispered something in
    his ear. 
    
    He relaxed almost immediately, his mind falling from a delirious dream
    state to a normal sleep. Ray smiled. "How'd you do that?" 
    
    "I cut off this Vermis's connection. It wasn't that difficult, really.
    Not when you believe you can." 
    
    ***
    
    Kowalski watched Tom work at the candles and frowned. "You're sure you
    can do this?" 
    
    "Unfortunately, yeah. It's not that different from opening a hellmouth."
    
    Kowalski sighed. "Well. That explains the second Von, then." He winced
    as Tom cut him hand, waving it over the candles. Adam smiled and stepped
    forward as the flaming portal opened. 
    
    "Now?" he asked Tom quietly.
    
    "Now!" Tom shouted at Adolph.
    
    The Wyrmchilde's bonds broke as he let loose his wingspan. Adolph flew
    towards his brother, screeching and grabbing him with taloned hands.
    He flew through the portal, dragging a screaming Adam with him. Benton
    followed, then Kowalski. 
    
    Tom paused as he heard a voice.
    
    /Tom! Help me!/
    
    James. Oh, hell. Calhoun.
    
    Tom paused, torn.
    
    /...tom.../
    
    Fear. Pain. Oh, god, James.
    
    /Hold on!/
    
    He let the wormhole close. He could open another. He had claimed this
    James Calhoun and he was fully responsible for him. He could never face
    his own lover if he abandoned this pathetic, damaged version of him.
    
    /I'm coming. Talk to me. Where are you, James?/
    
    /...help...he...he's here.../
    
    "JAMES!" Tom screamed aloud. "JAMES!"
    
    ***
    
    "Now what?"
    
    Captain Harding Welsh glanced out the window of his office to the street
    below. A distinctive warping of the light and what essentially amounted
    to a sound and light show from another dimension erupted in the parking
    lot across the street. He sighed. A wormhole. Damnit, hadn't he told
    them to cut this crap out at his precinct? 
    
    "Dewey!  Get a few uniforms out front! If that's Turnbull, I want to
    see him in my office pronto!" 
    
    ***
    
    Kowalski stumbled to a halt, still clutching Benton by the sleeve. Diefenbaker
    was at their heels and a few feet away, Adolph landed heavily, pinning
    Adam to the asphalt. 
    
    "Ya got yer wish, Adam. We're here. Adolph, keep 'em there fer now. Don'
    hurt 'em. Ben, you okay?" 
    
    Benton was staring at the city. The skyline was so altered, the city
    so quiet. 
    
    "What...Ray, what...happened?"
    
    "Armageddon, Ben. This is great compared to what it was." He glanced
    around, realizing he'd gotten used to the place as it now was. "Lotsa
    people working on it now. Dunno when it'll all be fixed, but it will
    be. Just stick close, okay?  We'll find the resta the crew and see if
    yer Ray's around." 
    
    He looked up as Dewey came hurrying towards them. Never though he'd be
    so happy to see that goofy face. "Yo, Dewey! What's up?" 
    
    "You got the Captain pissed, Kowalski. He told you to knock off this
    light show crap."
    
    "Tom had to so we could get back here."
    
    Dewey smirked. "Then the Captain would like to see him. Where is he?"
    
    The vampire prince looked around, suddenly aware that he hadn't seen
    the psychic. "Tom..."
    
    Where was he?
    
    He hadn't come with them.
    
    Shit.
    
    ***
    
    Tom stumbled past the Hoard, shoving his way into Caine's throne room.
    "James!" The Gangrel was sitting in Caine's throne, slumped over. He
    looked worse for wear. 
    
    "James?"
    
    He approached Calhoun quietly and touched his shoulder gently. The Gangrel
    looked up. His eyes. The light of insanity was no longer there. What
    had happened? Was this...?
    
    No. Not James.
    
    Caine.
    
    "You came," the vampire king breathed. "My letter. You received it?"
    
    "Yes..."
    
    "And the other one? The prince - where is he?"
    
    "He's gone home. He took Adam with him. They'll take care of him." 
    
    Caine nodded Calhoun's head, and grabbed Tom's hand. "You must take us
    across with you." 
    
    "Why?"
    
    "My heir. I must find her. Before it's too late..." He stood up, staring
    at Tom. "My Moloch saw things about you. What will happen to you. Would
    you like to know?" 
    
    "What kind of things?" wondered Tom.
    
    "You have a destiny, Higher. Few men can say as much."
    
    "A destiny."
    
    "All I can tell you is to look for the signs."
    
    ***
    
    Grissom's eyes slowly opened. "...home..." he whispered, staring at Fraser.
    
    "What?" Fraser hadn't quite caught that. He leaned forward.
    
    "They're home..."
    
    As if to agree with the Moloch's word, the main phone of the place rang.
    Fraser picked it up. 
    
    "Hell Hou-Ray! Ray, are you alright? Oh, god, Ray, I was so - yes! He's
    with you? He's with me! Right here!" Fraser looked at Ray, grinning like
    an idiot, tears filling his eyes. "He's here. Your Fraser. And Diefenbaker.
    And my Ray." 
    
    The vampire broke into a huge smile of pure joy.
    
    "Ray? Ray can't leave the building. It's daylight. Can you - come to
    Hell. Please. Now. I need to see you. Yes. Yes, I love you. What? Oh,
    here." 
    
    He handed the phone to the agitated vampire.
    
    "Ben?" breathed the Gangrel. He bit his lip, looking as if he wanted
    to weep, then winced as he drew blood from his own lip. "Yeah. Yeah.
    Tom Cat's here, too. Yeah, I know. It's weird. Yeah. I love ya too. Get
    over here, will ya? I'm kinda goin' through Mountie withdrawal here.
    I know, but it's not the same as /you/." 
    
    It was difficult finally hanging up - neither man wanted to say goodbye,
    both wanted them here NOW. Finally Fraser managed to hang up and he looked
    at the vampire with joy and relief on his face. 
    
    With a loud laugh, Ray threw himself into Fraser's arms, kissing him
    soundly before he danced around the room with Livia. Then he tackled
    Fraser anew. 
    
    Neither of them noticed the rather pensive looking Moloch in the next
    room, watching them.
    
    ***
    
    James Calhoun hated Hell. He'd been incarcerated here twice and he'd
    spent a few days as a frozen block of ice down in what was basically
    a dungeon. God only knew why Tom liked the place, but he did. 
    
    He picked up the pace as he heard laughter in the rooms Fraser and the
    others were using. God, he hoped it was some kind of good news. Anything.
    The Cubs won the Pennant. A Republican was back in the White House. Anything.
    
    Anything but Ray kissing Fraser.
    
    Or was it the other way around?
    
    "At ease, men," he barked, pleased to see both of them jump. Ray disentangled
    himself, handed off Livia to the Mountie, and came rushing at the Sabbat.
    
    "Elder! They're back! They're at the 13th!" He tackled James in a rough
    hug. 
    
    The Sabbat Elder stared, gaping. "Tom?" he breathed.
    
    Ray's body language said it all. Tom had not returned.
    
    "Jamey," began Fraser, but the vampire turned away. He left them, taking
    his grief with him so he did not lessen their elation. He felt Grissom's
    dark eyes follow him as he shut the door. Then he leaned his head back
    against the wall, closing his eyes as he gave in to the pain. 
    
    /Tom.../
    
    "Elder?"
    
    He blinked. Von. His second. Too Tall Dutch, Ted and Joan called him.
    Not his first choice of company, but at least it was company. 
    
    ***
    
    Tom sat with Caine and Calhoun, working to reopen the portal. It shouldn't
    be a difficult task. He felt their hand grab his bloodied one and looked
    up. "What?" 
    
    "We can help you," whispered Calhoun. Or was it Caine?
    
    "Help me how?" he stared at them quietly, waiting.
    
    "We can help you focus it. Open it where you wish it."
    
    "Oh..." He closed his eyes, concentrating on James. His James. He wanted
    to be near him when he came out. 
    
    It would be their undoing.
    
    ***
    
    Ray was positively quivering with anticipation as the car pulled into
    the secure parking lot. He wanted out. Diefenbaker was breathing down
    his neck and he suspected that if the werewolf hadn't gotten dibs, Fraser
    would be there instead. 
    
    Finally the exterior doors closed, allowing the interior doors to open.
    He shoved the car door open and Diefenbaker trampled him as he leaped
    out of the police car. 
    
    "Ray!"
    
    "Fraser!"
    
    "Fraser!"
    
    "Ray!"
    
    Nobody came up for air anytime soon.
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun was trying his best to stay awake as Von rambled on about God
    knows what when he felt it coming. Then he smelt it. A wormhole. He smiled.
    Only one person could find him like this. It had to be... 
    
    Von turned in surprise as the swirl of colors filled the hallway. He
    was going to say something totally obvious when suddenly the Elder's
    consort toppled out of the whirlpool of light, followed by a well-worn
    version of...Elder Calhoun. 
    
    James stepped over to the slightly stunned psychic. "Hey, Kinky," he
    grinned, reaching out a hand to help up the Primal Higher. Tom looked
    up at him with wide eyes and suddenly found himself yanked into a bone-crunching
    embrace. The vampire was trembling, but through the link they shared
    Tom could feel his relief, his elation. 
    
    "Oh, well," muttered Von, disappointed that Tom hadn't died horribly.
    When the Elder glared he just smiled and waved. 
    
    A groan filled the air. James and his lover stepped away from each other
    as the figure on the floor tried to rise. Calhoun stared in shock. It
    was him. As he'd once been. The beast that Lilith had made him to be.
    
    Tom knelt, helping the vampire to sit up. James could smell Gangrel.
    So used was he to being a Sabbat that he'd forgotten what it had been
    like... 
    
    He knelt, fascinated by this man. Something was not right here. He needed
    help. He seemed so frail. James remembered, suddenly appreciative of
    his Autarkis status and the blood Prince Kowalski had allowed him to
    take. 
    
    Suddenly he realized.
    
    There was more than one person in this body.
    
    James reached out to steady the haunted, hunted version of himself. He
    remembered that leather jacket. His had been ruined when he'd gone into
    the river after Lord Caine. Damn, he'd loved that coat...
    
    And then he froze. Something had come out with them. Something sinister,
    unseen. Something... 
    
    Lilith.
    
    No.
    
    He prayed he was screaming. He knew he was not. He was caged, and his
    link to Tom was shielded behind a wall of false emotions. 
    
    Tom peered at his lover, concerned. "James? Are you okay?"
    
    An uneasy smile answered him. It was as if James didn't remember how
    to smile. "Sure...I'm great. Who's your friend?" He grinned again, while
    all the while he was screaming in his own mind for a way to escape. 
    
    ***
    
    Adam screamed as he was dragged, kicking and screaming towards a caged
    room. He would not be caged. Locked up like some wild animal. His gaze
    paled when he saw the creature he was to be caged beside. 
    
    A Moloch.
    
    A feral Moloch.
    
    "You will all die for this, demons!" he shouted. "All of you, starting
    with your Primal whore!" 
    
    The Moloch hissed at him. Adam sneered. They would not hold him here.
    Never. 
    
    


End file.
